


let it happen

by holmious



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2018-09-20 21:39:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9517262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holmious/pseuds/holmious
Summary: status update:cant believe i updated lmao





	1. Chapter 1

“No.”

Lance's cue hits the floor with a dramatic clatter.

“LANCE!” Shiro warns from behind the bar, making Lance wince and throw him an apologetic smile over his shoulder.

“LOVE YOU, TAKASHI!” Lance yells, then turns his head back to whine at Keith. “AWWWW COME ON, KEITH!!!!!” He throws his head back like a tantrum-throwing kid, his arms flailing.

“Nope.” Keith leans over the table, aims, and takes the shot, his cue glides graciously between his beautiful, slender fingers. He pockets the 7 easily with a satisfying thunk. He points at Lance and smirks so fucking proud of himself Lance almost combusts, “SCORE, SUCKER.”

“Wow.” Lance bats his eyelashes, adding a sweet lilt to his voice, “Great shot there, Mullet. I didn’t know you were so awesome, I’m impressed.”

Keith scoffs. “That’s a…” He stares at Lance dead in the eyes, “no.”

Lance juts out his bottom lip, picking up his cue dejectedly and getting back to the game. He goes silent for a moment to concentrate and take his shot, only to fuck up and hit the ball so hard on the side of the pocket it bounces back, taking away his hopes and dreams, making Lance curse. Keith snorts, then shrugs when Lance looks at him like he’d just shot a puppy.

“Seriously Keiiiiith,” He implores, “I need your help. Pretty, pretty please. I’ll do whatever you want. Pleeeeaaassseeeeeee.”

Keith hums thoughtfully, considering, with his chin propped on the tip of his cue, “Nope.” His lips pop around the last syllable.

“PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEEEEEEEAAAAASE.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Lance brightens. “Really?” He asks, his heart swelling with hope.

Keith snorts, “Course not, dumbass. Quit being a baby and get back to the game. Jesus!”

Lance huffs indignantly but yields.

For now, anyway.

**Day 1**

“Yo, Keith!” He calls out when he spots that ugly mullet hunched over a stack of books. Keith’s head shots up so fast his glasses go askew when he hears his name and Lance smiles to himself. Keith's frown turns into an ugly glare when he realizes it’s Lance who’s approaching him.

“Keep quiet, you fiend,” Keith reprimands him, adjusting his glasses as Lance dumps himself on the chair next to Keith’s. Lance waves him off, so Keith turns his attention back to his books.

“So Keith,” Lance taps his fingers on the table.

Keith hums in lieu of an answer, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he scribbles down on his notepad. Lance thinks that’s kind of adorable.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna help me? Like, super sure? 100%?”

Keith sighs and glowers up at him, his brows furrowed in annoyance, “Are you really gonna do this right now? Can’t you wait a minute? I’m trying to study.”

“I don’t mind waiting, go ahead,” Lance shrugs, grinning. Keith squints at him for a second before pushing his glasses up and going back to his notes. Lance picks up one of the open books on the table and flips through its pages absentmindedly.

“Keith,” Lance calls when he gets bored, closing the book and throwing it back on the table. Keith ignores him, though. So he tries again, louder. “Keith!”

Keith clenches his jaw.

“Keith,” Lance singsongs. “Keith, Keith, Keith, Keith. Keiiiiithhhhh!”

Keith rolls his eyes, still not looking at him.

“Awwwwwww Keith,” Lance cries, pouting, “Why are you like this? I’m hurt.”

Lance freezes when a new, polite yet annoyed voice pipes in behind him. “Sir,” He looks over his shoulder so he can see the librarian frowning at him, her arms crossed, “would you mind keeping your voice down or should I call security?”

Lance looks back at Keith for help, his eyes wide, and pleading. Keith isn’t looking at him, though, but at the woman instead.

Keith’s mouth twitches. “Oh please do,” he insists, dropping his pen down on his notepad so he can mimic her stance, “I’m trying to study here but this guy here’s getting in the way, so I’d truly appreciate if you did kick him out.”

Lance gapes at him, the asshole! He clamps his mouth shut, then turns to the librarian. He grimaces apologetically at her. “I’m sorry, ma'am.” He says, “There’s no need for that, I’ll shut up.”

She squints at him, skeptical, but nods and leaves anyway.

Lance thunks his forehead on the table and groans. “I hate you,” Lance hisses under his breath. He hears Keith chuckle, then groans again.

_Asshole._

**Day 2**

Lance trudges into the bathroom with his laptop in one hand and aggressively pulls the shower curtain open with the other. “Keith, I really need your help with this.” He waves his laptop at Keith.

“WHAT THE FUCK.” Keith yelps, covering his crotch with the shampoo bottle. Lance can’t focus on Keith’s dick when his mullet’s all foamy and ridiculous like that. He can’t help but snort. “I already told you _no_ , you fucking pervert.” Keith snarls, “Get out.”

Lance doesn’t dwell on Keith’s mullet too much, he’s a man on a mission, after all. He pouts, “I’m serious, Keith! This is important.”

“I don’t care, get the fuck out.”

“But Keith,” he whines.

“No,” Keith throws the bottle he’s holding at Lance’s head. Lance yelps and almost drops his laptop trying to dodge it.

Lance gapes at him, hugging his laptop to his chest, “CAREFUL, KEITH!”

“Out!” Keith growls, throwing the conditioner bottle at him this time.

“Ugh, fine!” Lance grumbles, defeated and stomps out of the bathroom.

                   
**Day 3**

“Okay, I have an idea.” ****

“Shoot,” Keith says as he straps on his gloves.

Lance cracks his neck, “If I win this match, you’ll help me with my story.”

Keith scoffs as he bounces on his spot, rolling his shoulders.

Lance levels him with a look and adopts a fighting stance, “I’m serious.”

Keith lifts one eyebrow, challenging, “Come at me, then.” He beckons Lance forward with his hands.

Lance lunges at him, pulling him into a headlock. Keith hooks his arms around Lance’s thigh, hoists him up by the crotch and throws him down on the mat. Lance grunts and scrambles back on his feet.

He’s back on the floor in a matter of seconds, his torso pressed to the mat by Keith’s forearms as he straddles Lance’s ass, “Do you yield?”

Lance taps the mat twice and Keith rolls off him, cackling triumphantly.

**Day 4**

**Lance (10:20 p.m.)**

hey keith

**Lance (10:22 p.m.)**

keith

**Lance (10:23 p.m.)**

KEITH

**Lance (10:26 p.m.)**

key lime pie

keithypoo

keef

keithy kat

**Keith (10:34 p.m.)**

the fuck do u want

also why are u texting me???

ure literally a door away u idiot

**Lance (10:35 p.m.)**

im feeling too lazy

**Keith (10:40 p.m.)**

okay

what do u want???

**Lance (10:42 p.m.)**

i need ur help with something

**Lance (10:48 p.m.)**

KEITH ANSWER ME

**Keith (10:50 p.m.)**

oH HELL NO

not this again

[eyeroll emoji]

ask one of ur classmates

**Lance (10:52 p.m.)**

but keeeeeiiiiiiiiiiiith

they dont know me like u do

also they dont have ur mad editing skills

plus theyre not my friends

**Keith (10:54 p.m.)**

im not ur friend either

i just need u to split the rent

**Lance (10:55 p.m.)**

THATS A LIE AND U KNOW IT

**Lance (10:56 p.m.)**

right?

**Lance (11:00 p.m.)**

RIGHT?????????

DONT IGNORE ME KEITH

**Keith (11:01 p.m.)**

:)

**Lance (11:01 p.m.)**

OMG

I FUCKING HATE U

U ASSHOLE

**Keith (11:05 p.m.)**

good night lance :)

**Lance (11:06 p.m.)**

UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH GO PISS UP A FLAGPOLE

**Keith (11:07 p.m.)**

;*

**Day 5**

Knuckles rap on his door.

“Can I come in?” Lance asks, almost shy.

“Yeah, Lance,” Keith says, taking off his glasses and putting them on top of his book on the nightstand. He sits up and rubs his eyes, yawning huge.

Lance enters Keith’s bedroom with an _objectively_ cute moue, puppy dog eyes and his laptop clutched to his chest.

Keith rolls his eyes and sighs, slumping back on his bed. “Okay, fine!” He relents, rubbing his temples, “I’ll do it, I’ll edit your fucking porn.”

Lance splutters indignantly, “I TOLD YOU ALREADY KEITH, IT’S EROTICA!!!”

Keith snorts, “Yeah, whatever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a long time since i've posted anything so... hello, my dudes! how are you? it's 6 am here, and i spent the whole night writing/editing this, my eyeballs are almost falling off their sockets but it WAS SO WORTH IT. i'm really excited to write this one!!!! i hope u enjoy it ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ


	2. Chapter 2

“Lance?” He hears when he clicks the door shut with his heel. He whips his head around to find Keith at the dinner table hugging his right leg to his chest, knee tucked under his chin. He’s frowning deeply at his laptop screen like it's some kind of personal offence, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose. Keith looks so damn adorable Lance’s poor heart almost leaps out of his fucking chest. Fucked, Lance's fucked.

“Yup, that’s me,” Lance responds, throwing his keys on the kitchen island and kicking off his shoes.

Keith peers up at him over the rim of his glasses. “Come here for a sec,” he nudges the chair next to him with his bare toes. Lance stares. Hm, weird. Keith narrows his eyes when he doesn’t budge. Oh. Right, yeah, moving. Yep, on it.

Lance smiles at Keith, hip-checking the table and reaching his arm forward to adjust Keith’s glasses with his knuckles, “You need to get these fixed, shorty.”

Keith bats his hand away and scowls, “Sit.”

Lance chuckles but acquiesces, “Seriously, though, it’s too loose.” As if on cue, Keith’s glasses slide down his nose again. Lance snorts, “Told you.”

Keith socks him on the arm, _hard_ , “Shut up.”

“Ow, so mean!” Lance pouts as he rubs his arm, “What do you want from me, anyway?”

Keith adjusts himself on the chair, tucking his left foot under his right thigh, and turns his laptop towards Lance so he can see his own words staring back at him. “This won’t do,” Keith says seriously as he pushes his glasses back with his middle finger.

Lance drums his fingers on the table. “What?”

“Lance, this isn’t working.”

Lance’s fingers freeze, his brows rising, “What do you mean _this isn’t working_??”

“I mean…” he deadpans, gesturing at the laptop, “I can’t edit this, it’s total _bullshit_. There’s no hope.”

Lance bristles, “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, KEITH????”

Keith snickers, “Maybe a little?”

Lance throws his head back and glares in exasperation at the ceiling, bringing his hands up to cover his face, and groaning, “God, I beg, take me now.” After a moment, he lets his hands fall back on the table. “You know,” he starts, turning his head back so he can glower at Keith properly, “If you weren’t so good at editing and I wasn’t so desperate, I wouldn’t even think of asking you to do this for me, ‘cause you’re a serious fucking prickly pain in my fucking miserable ass.”

Keith smirks and shrugs, “Thanks.”

Lance splutters, “THAT WASN’T A COMPLIMENT.”

Keith doesn’t respond, though, he just stares at Lance in this weird sort of way. It's very, very weird. Unsettling, even.

Lance touches his face, self-conscious, “Is there something on my-”

“Huh,” Keith blurts out, interrupting Lance.

“Keith?” Lance questions with a frown, worrying for his friend’s sanity.

“Sorry,” Keith blinks at him and blushes.

Lance squints, “Dude, what the _fuck_.”

“Lance, don’t freak out, but…” Keith adjusts his glasses, “I might have an idea.”

Lance huffs, “Don’t strain yourself.”

Keith scowls, “Shut up and hear me out, asshole.”

“Okay,” Lance leans back on his chair and crosses his arms, “I'll bite.”

“I think we should…” Keith snaps the rubber band on his wrist, “Uhm, fuck?”

Lance chokes on his own spit and coughs so hard his chair almost topples over.

“Are you okay, Lance?” Keith asks, his voice concerned but amused.

“ _Fuck?_ ” Lance croaks after some time, slapping his chest and blinking away tears. 

“Yeah,” Keith’s mouth twitches. “For research, obviously.”

Lance can only gape at Keith, his chest heaving. Lance’s lungs are burning so, so bad.

“Look, I’ll be straight with you,“ Keith runs his fingers through his FUGLY mullet, "your writing style’s actually pretty decent. You’re eloquent, I’ll give you that. But you suck at writing sex scenes… maybe from lack of experience?” Keith teases, then winces when Lance kicks his shin under the table.

Is this guy for fucking serious? _They_ should _fuck_? What kind of joke is this?

"No, but seriously.” Keith insists, “Even though the sex scenes are well-written, they lack passion, which is kind of a surprise coming from you. You clearly need some inspiration and I think being actually in character might really help, is all.”

“AND BY THAT YOU MEAN THE TWO OF US FUCKING???”

Keith bites his bottom lip in amusement and nods. He doesn't tease, which is a first. Lance is thankful but _still_.

“OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Lance yells in disbelief, then takes a deep, recomposing breath. “Okay. So uh, let me get this straight… you think we should _fuck_ this one out?”

Keith shrugs again, “I mean, if you want to.”

“Huh.” Lance’s mouth twitches, “That’s crazy but okay.”

“What?”

Lance rolls his eyes and waves him off, “I said fine, Keith. Let’s do this.”

Keith smirks, turning his attention back to his laptop. Lance stares at the side of his face then chuckles. “Gotta say, though,” Lance leers, “I didn’t know you wanted to fuck me this bad, mullet head.”

“SHUT UP!” Keith pushes Lance off his chair.

 

* * *

 Lance can’t fucking sleep.

He tries playing dead for a while and when that doesn’t work, he settles upon changing positions back and forth.

He kicks off the sheets in frustration, takes his shirt off, turns to his side, rolls on his stomach, burrows his face into his pillow. Props himself up on his elbows and huffs, lies back down. Flips his pillow over and presses his face to the cool fabric.

It doesn’t work.

He rolls on his back and lets his eyes dart around the room as he taps his chest with his thumbs, chewing on his bottom lip.

_Nothing fucking works._

He blinks up at the ceiling and blows a raspberry.

“i think we should… uhm, fuck?” he mimics under his breath.

Fucking Keith.

God, he _can’t_ do this.

He reaches for his phone on his nightstand and brings the device closer to his face, adjusting himself on the bed. He unlocks the phone and almost drops it right on his face in agony because, wow, such brightness. He turns down the brightness on his screen and blinks several times before tapping open his messages with Hunk.

He starts typing furiously.

**Lance (2:06 a.m.)**

HUNK U UP

HUNK HUNK

HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNKKKK

HELP

**Hunk (2:08 a.m.)**

why hello lance my good buddy how are you?

i’m fine thanks for asking ure so kind

what can i do for you this alarmingly late???

**Lance (2:10 a.m.)**

I CANR SLEEP HUNK HELP

HEPL ME

IM GONNA DIE

KEITHS A SERIAL KILLER AND HES COMING AFTER ME WITH HIS DICK

KEITHS GONNA KILL ME WITH HIS DICKKKKKKKKK

**Hunk (2:13 a.m.)**

i think ure overreacting a bit lance

calm down and explain this to me like a normal human being

breathe in

breathe out

**Lance (2:14 a.m.)**

ICANT HUNK H

U

N

K

WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFEEEEEEEEEEEE

**Hunk (2:17 a.m.)**

i still need an explanation

please cUT THE DRAMATICS

IM GETTING REAL WORRIED HERE AND YOU KNOW WHAT WORRYING DOES TO MY STOMACH!!!!!!!

ITS NOT PRETTY LANCE SO SPILL

**Lance (2:18 a.m.)**

EW GROSS

but okay

so

fucking keith came up with this fucking INSANE idea that we should FUCK

HE SAID WE SHOULD FUCK HUNK cuz my sex scenes were like AWFUL and he thought that was a brilliant idea HE SAID I LACK EXPERIENCE THE ASSHOLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CAN U BELIEVE THE NERVE????? and i went with it cuz i HAVE THE MORAL DUTY to prove him wrong and now im gonna die

okay get this

this is the weirdest part

its not only cuz i gotta prove him wrong but cuz i kinda wanna fuck the bastard for my own self-indulging and impure reasons

**Hunk (2:23 a.m.)**

lance not even rover thinks thats weird and hes a DOG

**Lance (2:24 a.m.)**

IMHYPERVENTILATING HERE AND URE MAKING FUN OF ME

URE A TERRIBLE BEST FRIEND

TERRIBLE I TELL U

IM HAVING A CRISIS HERE HUNK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD

HES SO HOT HUNK HELP ME I CANT DO THIS

IM GONNA DIE

RIP LANCE

**Hunk (2:26 a.m.)**

lance youre not gonna die

jesus

i thought this was serious

**Lance (2:27 a.m.)**

GASP

it IS SERIOUS HUNK CANT U SEE IM A DEAD MAN WALKING?????? THIS IS PRETTYFUCKIGN SERIOUs HUNK

at first i thought i could do it but then i started thinking about it and now IM FREAKING THE FUCK OUT HELP HUNK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

**Hunk (2:29 a.m.)**

calm down lance its just keith

its not like he’s gonna make fun of you or anything

**Lance (2:30 a.m.)**

HUNK???????? DID U HIT UR HEAD OR SOMETHING???? SHOULD I BE WORRIED????? CALL AN AMBULANCE??????? ITS FUCKING KEITH WERE TALKING ABOUT DUDE!!!! MISTER MCMULLET CAPTAIN GRUMPY PANTS!!!!!!!

**Hunk (2:33 a.m.)**

well i mean not too much???

**Lance (2:33 a.m.)**

hUNK!!!!!!!

**Hunk (2:34 a.m.)**

okay you got me

youre never gonna live this down good luck man

it was nice knowing you

**Lance (2:35 a.m.)**

well thanks

for ABSOLUTELY NOTHING

**Hunk (2:35 a.m.)**

you know i love you bro

seriously tho

you dont have to worry about this too much

keiths your friend after all isnt he

not to mention hes a cool bean, a real gem

do you trust him?

**Lance (2:36 a.m.)**

well duh i wouldnt be living with the guy if i didnt

**Hunk (2:39 a.m.)**

there it is

he knows all about your weird fixations and habits and is still there

thats gotta count for something right???

its not like hes gonna judge for real

hes just gonna tease the hell outta you which is normal behavior for him

and youll tease him right back

so DONT WORRY LANCE GO

BE BRAVE MY CHILD

CONQUER THAT BOOTY!!!!!!!

COMPLETE YOUR QUEST!!!!!!!!!

**Lance (2:42 a.m.)**

ohmy GOD hunk ure so embarrassing

thanks tho

for real

**Hunk (2:42 a.m.)**

anytime ;)

**Lance (2:43 a.m.)**

<3

Lance sighs, turns on his side only to place his phone back on his nightstand, then rolls on his stomach, burying his face deep in his pillow. He closes his eyes and wills himself to fucking sleep. 

About thirty minutes later, he’s out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... hey guys, chapter 2 is out. *cheers* it's 8 a.m. right now, and i did it again! yeah, i spent the whole night writing this. what can i say, it's a habit. OMG I NEED TO SLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP im dying *yawns in spanish* good night and stay hydrated!!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one in which Lance brings out Keith's inner-kid. *finger guns*

Don’t freak out, don’t freak out, do _not_ freak out.

I repeat, _do not freak out_.

Lance assures himself this is fine, this is a _good_ idea.

If he’s honest, having sex with his roommate in order to improve his writing is, putting it lightly, a bit of an unconventional method, he’ll give you that. It doesn’t sound bad, though. At least, not bad enough for him to still be freaking out about it like this, even after Hunk’s damage control.

It actually sounds pretty fucking _amazing_ that he’ll get to fuck a guy he’s been lusting after for _centuries_. He’ll put his _hands_ all over that unfairly perfect bod and then _write_ about it. It’s just like a dream come true, he _shouldn’t_ be freaking out about that.

_It’s like writing a diary, Martínez. No big deal, Easy Fucking Peasy™_

Not to mention Keith’s willing, he’s the one who came up with the idea in the first place. He’s _so_ willing.

Lance’s not gonna, no, scratch that, he _can’t_ waste an opportunity like this just because he’s a _little_ scared Keith will make fun of him, he’s not INSANE.

He’s used to the teasing, anyway.

Lance can’t afford to freak out, ya feel. Not now, not _again_.

Breathe in, breathe out.

He can do this.

Lance’s got a point to make, and he’ll do it.

Keith will swallow his goddamn words through Lance’s goddamn _dick_.

“So,” Keith starts, forcing Lance out of the gutter to look up at him, “Since we don’t have endless stamina, I figured we should go through the scenes one per night. When we’re done with a scene, you’ll go straight to writing ‘cause then it’ll still be fresh in your head, got it? It’ll take time, but it’s the best course of action.”

Lance nods, resting his chin on his palm.

“ _And_ we’ll record it.”

Lance nods agai- wait, “What?????” He almost cracks his chin on his desk.

“What if you forget important details, Lance?” Keith points out, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a little smirk, “We can’t have that, can we?”

Lance sits up and blinks. “Fair enough, I guess.”

He’s screaming internally, he’s screaming his fucking _lungs_ out.

Oh man, oh _man_ , this is a _terrible_ idea.

**Lance (7:45 p.m.)**  
hUNK  
IM DEAD KEITH KILLDE ME  
TELL MY FAMILY I LOVE THM

 

* * *

 

**Keith (11:56 a.m.)**  
everything’s set up  
by the way we’re out of lube  
could u pick some up on ur way home?

Lance chokes on his turkey sandwich, dropping his phone on the table.

Hunk pats him on the back none too gently, making Lance’s eyes bulge as he coughs.

“You good there, buddy?”

Lance heaves a drawn-out breath and slumps forward on the table. “I’m - cough - peachy.” He rests his burning cheek on the cool surface and begs whomever is out there to strike him on the spot. Strike him _dead_.

 _Turn me into dust_.

 

* * *

 

“I got the lube,” Lance announces as he locks the door.

Keith walks up to him and levels Lance with a _look_.

Oh shit. Trouble, here comes trouble. Abort Mission. _Abort_.

“You want ME…” he mutters through gritted teeth and holds up a piece of paper, “to BOTTOM?”

Lance drops the pharmacy bag.

Oh right, _that_.

Lance slumps against the door and looks down at his feet, scuffing the rug. “Yeah, I mean…” Lance clears his throat when his voice cracks, “since this chapter is about the top’s point of view I thin- I mean, I-i just thought, uh, I had to…” his cheeks BURN as he stammers. His whole face's on fucking fire. Lance takes a deep breath and flicks his eyes up to Keith. He runs his hand through his hair, “b-be in character, you know.“

Keith’s _glaring_ at him, his arms crossed.

Lance’s positive he’s gonna die today.

"It was your idea!” Lance points out, raising his hands.

Keith scrunches up his nose, then blows a raspberry. “Ugh, fine!” He throws his arms up in defeat, turning his back to Lance and walking away, “Whatever, let’s get this over with.”

“Okay…” Lance lets out a shaky breath and picks up the fallen bag.

 

* * *

 

“Take your clothes off, please?” Lance asks from the bed, fidgeting with his fingers.

Keith squints from the chair across him, “Just like that?”

“KEITH, HELP ME OUT, DUDE! PLEASE!”

Keith snickers, standing up and stretching his back. His shirt rides up, and yep, happy trails. Lance’s gonna fucking _die_.

“Wow,” Keith breathes out, “such a gentleman.”

“Keeeeith,” Lance whines.

“Fine,” he says, smirking and pulling his shirt over his head.

His glasses hit the floor with a clack.

Keith smirk falls and his cheeks turn pink.

The tiny knot in Lance’s throat loosens and he cracks a smile, then he snorts, then he starts chuckling until he’s cackling so hard he falls over. "Oh - ahaha - man,” he wipes his eyes, “that would’ve been - hah - way hotter if you hadn’t dropped your glasses.”

“Shut up, Lance.”

Lance chuckles and lifts his head off the bed; he sees Keith bending down to pick up his glasses from the floor, the muscles shifting on Keith’s back make Lance want to _cry_. “Damn boy,” he whistles, “you _fine_.”

Keith places his glasses on the chair he was sitting on, and gives Lance an unimpressed look, shaking his head, “You’re such a loser.”

Lance snorts, making grabby hands at Keith.

Keith rolls his eyes but climbs on the bed and crawls over Lance’s body. He straddles Lance’s hips, settling his butt right on top of Lance’s dick.

Oh my _God_.

Lance’s eyes go wide, “HOLY SHIT KEITH, YOUR BUTT’S ON MY DICK.”

“It’s where it’s supposed to be, idiot,” he deadpans and wiggles his hips. Lance’s back arches and he _whines_. He looks up and glares.

Keith’s lips twitch.

“Oh ho, you’re so _on_.” Lance snakes his arm around Keith’s waist and flips them over, settling himself between Keith’s thighs. He leans forward and Keith’s eyes widen.

“Damn it Lance,” he shoves Lance’s face away, “did you make out with an onion or something? Your breath stinks.”

Lance sits back on his heels and checks his breath. He frowns, “C'mon Keith, it’s not _that_ bad.”

Keith scrunches up his nose, “Seriously, go brush your teeth. I can smell your breath from here. It’s fucking awful.”

“But Keith,” Lance pouts, “It’s an aphrodisiac.”

“No Lance, it’s not. I heard somewhere that onions make your come taste bitter, you moron.”

“Good thing I’m sucking your dick, then.” Lance wiggles his eyebrows and leans forward again.

Keith places his hands flat on Lance’s chest and holds him back at arm’s length, “Fuck no, there’s no way in hell I’ll let you put your filthy mouth anywhere near my dick. Go brush your damn teeth.”

Lance pries Keith’s hands from his chest and leans forward to try and lick his cheek. Keith shrieks, squirming so much he accidentally knees Lance right in the junk so hard, Lance falls off the bed.

“¡COÑO CARAJO!” He howls in pain when he hits the floor, eyes squeezed shut.

“LANCE! You okay?”

“¡COME MIERDA! I THINK YOU BROKE MY DICK,” he cries, cupping his smarting dick through his briefs with both hands, tears in his eyes. It hurts so fucking bad, _holy fucking crow_.

Keith’s concerned tone morphs into a disbelieving laugh, “I’m sure I didn’t.”

“You did too,” Lance grunts.

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“If you’re so sure, why don’t you check it out yourself?” Keith challenges.

Lance’s hands twitch over his dick but he can’t bring himself to take them off, he’s too fucking scared of what he might see there, “I can’t.”

“Let me take a look, then.”

Lance snaps his watery eyes open to make a face at Keith, who’s now kneeling beside him. “What are you, a doctor?” He barks.

“ _Lance_.”

“ _What_?” He sniffs.

“Let me see.” Keith taps Lance’s arm gently.

Lance lets out a shaky breath but takes his hands away from his crotch and brings them up, pressing them to his face in an attempt to hide it. He can’t see this. He _can’t_. His poor child.

Keith pushes Lance’s boxers down to his thighs and gasps.

“What?” Lance asks panicky, peeking at Keith through his fingers.

Keith’s eyes are wide, “Was it always this crooked?”

Lance blanches, heart dropping to his feet.

Keith bursts out laughing. “Oh my god, your _face_.”

Lance looks down at his dick and his eyes twitch when he finds out Keith's only being a dingus, teasing him because his dick's just _slightly_ crooked. His blood boils, “I’m gonna fucking _kill_ you.”

Keith jumps to his feet and sprints towards the door, cackling manically.

“Come back here, you peanut-sized asshole,” Lance runs after him, pushing his boxers up, “This isn’t funny!” He trips over the tripod and yelps, bringing the thing down with him. He sits up, rubbing his right calf and looking around the room. His eyes fall on the tripod.

Something’s off. Something’s not right.  Something’s _missing_.

“Oh no. No way. NO, nononononono. NOOOOOOOOO. Hell, no. Nope.”

Great, now he can’t even erase his embarrassment and forget this ever happened. Just _awesome_.

“Are you looking for this?”

His eyes snap up.

Keith’s leaning on the doorway, camera in his hand and a grin threatening to eat his whole face.

Lance’s an idiot, he was so distracted he missed the moment Keith took the camera. He’s gonna die. Keith’s gonna be the death of him.

He warned Hunk, but did Hunk listen to him?

No, of course he didn’t.

People _never_ listen to Lance.

What a fucking pain.

Lance slumps back on the floor and groans, “You’re a fucking asshole, Kogane.”

“Awwww, come on.” Keith straddles Lance’s lap, pointing the camera at him, “Admit it, it was funny.”

Lance squints directly at the camera, “Were you always this annoying? No wait, don’t answer it. Of course you were, _duh_.”

Keith shrugs with a smirk, “I think you’re rubbing off on me.”

Lance props himself on his elbows and glares, “Fuck _you_.”

“Oh, I have something for you,” Lance rolls his eyes when Keith reaches his arm back, and pulls something off his back pocket, Lance’s surprised to see it’s not Keith’s middle finger. Keith unwraps the thing with his free hand, “Open your mouth.”

Lance snaps his mouth shut.

“Lance.”

He shakes his head.

“Come on, it’s just a bubblegum.” Keith smirks, “And since you’re not gonna brush your teeth…”

Lance quirks an eyebrow.

Keith rolls his eyes, “Fine.” He sticks the gum into his own mouth and chews for a moment, then pops, “See?”

Lance’s still suspicious but lets his mouth fall open anyway, placing his hands on Keith’s thighs. Keith sets the camera on the floor and leans forward to slip his tongue into Lance’s mouth, passing him the gum.

Keith pulls back, “There, onion breath.” Lance snaps his teeth at him, almost catching Keith’s bottom lip while at it.

Keith sits up, laughing. “You know,” Keith says, picking the camera back up and pointing at Lance’s face again, “I thought this was gonna be more, I don’t know,” he grinds down against Lance's half-chubby pointedly, making Lance's breath hitch, “ _stiff_.”

Lance pops the gum and chuckles, slightly out of breath, “True.”

Hunk was right, Lance shouldn’t have freaked out so much about this. Or maybe he should’ve. Maybe that’s why he’s not freaking out now.

Huh.

“Maybe it’s because we’re not following the script.”

Lance smiles, “Maybe.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Lance just shakes his head and Keith squints.

They stare at each other.

“You should put the camera back on the tripod,” Lance suggests after a beat, “we’ve got a _scene_ to do.”

Keith looks down at the camera in his hand then back at Lance, his eyes crinkle when he huffs a laugh. He stands up, bringing up the knocked tripod with him.

Lance’s having trouble breathing.

 _Shit_.

Keith’s so fucking pretty it hurts.

Physically.

 

* * *

 

Lance’s got one slicked finger up Keith’s ass and he’s so fucking _tight_.

“Um… Lance.” Keith turns his face on the pillow to peer at Lance, bottom lip between his teeth and cheeks flushed.

“Oh my god, did I hurt you?” Lance’s voice pitches high.

“No, calm down.” Keith lets out a breath, “I’m fine, it’s just… this feels, ah, kinda weird.”

Lance pulls his finger out, slams it back in, then curls it up. Keith’s gasp sends a shiver down Lance’s spine. Lance shudders, “Is this better?”

“It's…” Keith sighs, “It actually feels pretty good? Do it again.”

So Lance does and when Keith starts rocking back against his finger, he adds another. Keith moans against the pillow as Lance scissors his fingers inside him, stretching him open. Keith’s thighs shake slightly.

Lance sits back and watches through half-lidded eyes as Keith moves against his fingers, watches Keith’s hole swallowing them up. He gulps, and has to press the heel of his palm against his leaking dick to relieve some damn pressure. He’s going fucking crazy, Keith’s so _hot_.

Lance suddenly pulls his fingers out and Keith _whines_ , so shameless, “Laaaance.”

“Sorry,” Lance presses a kiss to Keith’s ass cheek, shushing him and reaching for the lube, “I just had an idea.”

He spreads Keith’s thighs wider and trails his fingers up his skin, gripping at Keith’s ass, then sliding his thumbs inside. He presses his tongue between his fingers and Keith lets out a choked-off moan, his body trembling.

Lance thrusts his tongue inside, _hard_.

“Fucking _asshole_ ,” Keith cries out, pressing his ass against Lance’s face.

Lance digs his fingers into Keith’s ass, it’s probably gonna leave bruises but he doesn’t really care, it’s not like anyone will notice anyway, and fucks him with his tongue. Slow and hard. Keith’s moaning, mewling, panting and Lance can’t breathe, his dick’s so hard he’s feeling light-headed.

“Lance please,” Keith begs and Lance reacts on instinct, he thrusts faster and moans against Keith’s ass, spit and lube dribbling down his chin. He slurps, lewd.

“Lance,” Keith pants, wrecked, “I’m gonna- uhgnnn.”

Lance pulls his thumbs back and traces the rim with his tongue, less rushed, just teasing. He slithers one arm around Keith’s body and reaches for his leaking dick to squeeze the base, Keith curses and takes a deep breath.

Lance pants, recovering his breath while resting his sweaty forehead against Keith’s ass and running a soothing hand up and down his thigh.

“Wow,” Keith laughs breathlessly.

Lance chuckles, nipping at the swell of Keith’s ass cheek, and Keith jolts. He reaches back to smack Lance’s face away, “Off, asshole.”

Lance hums a laugh and pulls back, rasping, “Roll over.”

Keith does and Lance almost swallows his tongue, he can hear his blood rushing in his ears. _Damn_ , what a _great_ plan, fucking amazing. He’ll be hard for weeks, for sure.

Keith’s all sweaty and flushed, hair a train wreck, bottom lip bloody, chest heaving. Lance crawls over Keith’s body, settling himself between his thighs, and leans down to suck Keith’s bottom lip into his mouth, he tastes blood on his tongue but doesn’t fucking care. He smoothes his hands down Keith’s chest, reaches under his knees, pulling his legs around his hips. He bites down on Keith’s lip and tugs, Keith’s back arches and he squeezes Lance with his thighs. Lance pulls back slowly until Keith’s bottom lip snaps back.

He props himself up on his elbows and stares down at Keith, and Keith stares right back at him, eyes dark behind half-lids and thick lashes, his mouth slack.

Lance smirks, “Well, _hello_ there.”

Keith grips the back of Lance’s head and tugs him down, bringing their mouths together. “Shut up and do something,” he breathes against Lance’s mouth so, so desperate. His nails dig into Lance’s skin, and he hisses. It stings and it’s so good his dick _throbs_.

“So bossy,” Lance teases, out of breath, slipping his tongue inside Keith’s mouth so they’re kissing. Hard, so fucking sloppy, and desperate. They bite at each other’s mouths, tug hard enough to break skin, they gasp, and moan.

Lance pulls back with a wet pop just so he can adjusts their bodies until their erections are sliding together, their breath hitches. Lance latches his mouth onto Keith’s neck and bites, and sucks, making Keith sob. He trails his mouth back to Keith’s mouth, and slots their lips back together. They’re rocking their bodies together, and moaning against each other’s open mouths, Keith’s heels pressing against the back of Lance’s thighs.

Keith tugs at his hair, and Lance grunts.

“Lance,” Keith whines, “Ah, ah, L-ah-hn-ce.”

And Lance just _knows_ what to do.

He pulls back, panting, and reaches for the bottle of lube, and for the condom, does quick work of putting it on, and slicking himself up.

He’s really fucking desperate and, from the looks of it, he's not the only one.

“ _Hurry up_ ,” Keith begs, digging his heels hard on Lance’s thighs, and Lance chuckles. He grabs behind Keith's knee, and rolls them over. Keith lets out a yelp, balancing himself with both hands on Lance’s chest as he straddles his hips. He scowls down at Lance.

“Hurry up and do something,” Lance teases, his lips twisting into a smirk and eyebrows waggling. Keith glares, and reaches back to grip the base of Lance’s dick and sinks down with a drawn-out moan, his head falling back, and Lance squeezes his eyes shut and _yells_. Smirk definitively wiped off his face.

So _damn_ tight.

Keith uses Lance’s shoulders for support, lifts his body and sinks back down. Does it again, and Lance groans, sinking his nails into Keith’s flesh. Keith rolls his hips, his voice breaks as he sobs Lance's name, and Lance fucking drools, snapping his hips up, thrusting hard. Keith’s letting out breathy moans, and Lance’s head’s spinning.

Keith’s nails are digging into his shoulders but he can’t feel a damn thing.

Keith reaches back and grips Lance's thighs, nails biting skin as he rides Lance so fucking good, _yelling_ every time Lance's dick hits the right spot.

Lance’s back arches, and he can’t keep himself from moaning, can’t bring himself to do anything other than trying to bite his groans back, his eyes rolling back. Keith clenches around him, and the both of them _scream._ Keith comes. Untouched.

Lance feels wet, and warm all over.

Lance’s lost it, he truly has. His hips snap up one more time, and he breaks, coming hard with a hoarse shout.

Keith collapses on top of Lance’s chest, breath tickling his neck, their chests heaving in tandem.

Lance cracks his eyes open and stares up at the ceiling.

Oh my _God_.

He bursts out laughing still inside Keith, his shoulders shaking, and jostling Keith awake. Keith whines and Lance laughs harder, dick slipping out.

Oh my _fucking_ God.

 

* * *

 

Lance wakes up and his shoulders are fucking _stinging_. His neck is so sore he might _die_. He’s clean, though, so that’s a plus. He doesn’t remember how that happened but still, he’s clean, and warm, and sated.

He jumps when he hears a soft snore to his left, and it’s not even _loud_.

He just woke up from the best fuck of his entire life, though, so he can’t exactly be blamed, give him a break.

He turns on his side and watches Keith sleep for a moment, hugging his pillow and snoring away, covers up to his shoulders, not a care in the world, eyes darting around behind closed soft-looking lids, no crease in his forehead and mouth slack. He looks so soft Lance wants to bite him whole but refrains. Instead, he lifts the covers off himself, gets up and pads over to the bathroom. He’s gotta pee, anyway.

He relieves himself and prepares himself mental and psychologically for what he might see in the mirror as he flushes the toilet and washes his hands, eyes fixed on them.

He takes a deep breath and looks up at himself in the mirror. He blinks when he sees the marks on his skin, his mouth falling open.

His shoulders are, unsurprisingly, all bruised up and scratched. He turns his head just a little to the side and yelps when he sees bruises shaped _exactly_ like fingers. Fingers! He picks up his hand mirror and examines the damage and, HO BOY. There’s this huge, nasty hand-print on his nape that totally can’t be hidden. Jesus, he’ll have to borrow one of Keith’s turtlenecks because _man_ , he can’t go out like this.

Okay, no time to freak out about this, he’s got a story to write.

He walks back to his bed, sits over the covers gingerly so not to wake Keith and reaches for his laptop to start writing.

And he does. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh hi guys!!! i'm pooped, i spent the whole night fighting against a writer's block from hell, and... i win! i made it! i finished this chapter!!!! and i'm so pooped i think imma pass out, lmao. but ta-da here it is! OH AND AND i'd like to thank you all for your awesome comments - and also i'd like to apologize for not answering them (i'm a terrible person i know I'M SORRY I LOVE YOU) - they kept me going, they helped me defeat the beast, and they also gave and give me life and i'm so grateful. you're all awesome. THANK YOU!!! STAY HYDRATED!!! IMMA SLEEP FOR A WEEK NOW LOVE YOU
> 
> spanish translations (u guys can correct me if i get anything wrong):  
> "¡COÑO CARAJO!" both interjections can mean "damn", "shit" or "fuck" (if you're feeling adventurous)  
> *whispers* carajo literally means dick  
> i like to think of this combo as shit fuck/fuck shit ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> "¡COME MIERDA!" literally means "shit eater" which i think is awesome lmao


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO! IT'S ME! IT'S BEEN TOO LONG, I'M SORRY!  
> *cries* the porn just wasn't happening for me this time, guys, i'm so sorry!!!! so sorry. the whole chapter was a problem, tbh. but i'm still gonna post it like this, just to post AT LEAST something today, even without porn, even if it sucks, cause i haven't posted anything since fucking february, which _rude_.  
>  i promise i'll work my ass off to post porn soon! (i hope it'll be soon, at least)  
> sorry for the wait, and accept this mess! i honestly don't know what to do with it!  
> *runs away*

9:40 A.M.

Lance saves the document, closes it, stares at his laptop desktop image until his eyes start to sting, groans in frustration, and slams his laptop shut. Puts it aside. He crosses his arms like a petulant child, he chews on his bottom lip, his eyes roam around his room.

He watches as the wind plays lazily with his curtains, making their shadows dance, swaying back and forth.

Something moves in his peripheral vision. He rolls his head to the side, fingers hovering over the keypad. The sight that meets him makes him pause, his fingers freeze, Keith looks so peaceful, he looks almost… ethereal. It’s kind of disturbing, yet mesmerizing at the same time.

Keith’s pale face glows a tender hue under the morning light, the sun tinges his chapped lips a deep pink, the scar under his left eye looks almost translucent.

Keith’s so… unfairly beautiful.

He catches himself tracing down the slopes of Keith’s face, the lines of his jaw, the curve of his upper lip with his eyes like a piece of chalk on canvas. He’s never seen something quite this stunning before in his life (granted, he’s only 22, but that’s beside the point), if only he knew how to draw like Keith does.

Lance can’t take this, his heart’s too weak.

He wants to bury his face in Keith’s ruffled hair, wants to breathe him in, wants to have him in his arms, wants to touch, but he seems so out of reach like this. Lance curls his fingers into fists, aching to touch. He restrains himself from charting pale, fading freckles down with his fingertips.

It… it’s very distracting, is what it is.

Keith scrunches up his nose, grumbles and throws an arm over his eyes. Lance’s breath catches in his throat.

Lance… Lance is fucked, he knows he’s fucked, he already knew that then (when Keith suggested this… arrangement), he knows that now, he’s known that for some time now, but it never fails to catch him by surprise. This… _feeling_ never fails to overwhelm him. He fucking hates this… whatever this is, he has no fucking word for this… feeling. It claws at his throat, it kicks him the gut, it scorches his heart, it clenches his heart in a death-grip, it steps on it, it rips his heart apart.

Lance covers his face in his hands and rubs, groaning in frustration. This is _ridiculous_. He forces himself to look away, and focuses on drilling a hole into the wall with the force of his glare instead, running his tongue over one of his canines.

 _Do not distract yourself with cheesy rom-com bullshit, bitch,_ he scolds himself, _Write._ Yes _, writing is good. Stressful, but good. Go back to writing. Avoid contact. Don’t look. Avert your eyes. Work. You’ve got work to do, so do it._

After about five or so minutes of glaring despondently into fucking space and hating himself for being pathetic, he does. He’s always been good at taking all his frustrations on his writing.

He pulls his laptop into his lap, opens it, double taps, and the document appears on the screen. The cursor blinks curiously at him, he blinks back, and sighs. He starts scanning it for typos, and corrects them, all the while grumbling about how fucking stupid he is, and how fucking stupid all those mistakes were.

He adds some of the worst expletives in big, bold and italic capital letters next to shitty, weird ass sounding paragraphs that don’t ever seem to get any better, even after rewriting them seven thousand three hundred and eighty-four fucking times. Doesn’t matter how many times he tries, how many times he bangs his fists on the keyboard, how hard he hits the keys, the words don’t _ever_ seem to come out quite right.

_Rinse, lather, repeat._

“¡BESA MI CULO, PUTO!” He snaps at one particularly dumb typo, and deletes its whole sentence out of spite.

Keith stirs, and groans next to him, turning his body towards Lance. Lance tenses, holding his breath and sitting very still until he’s super sure, 100% Keith won’t wake up. Keith sighs obliviously in his sleep, and turns on his stomach. Lance lets out a relieved breath, closing his eyes.

He snaps them open and shakes his head in frustration, “No seas tonto, Lance.”

He hits ctrl-z and skips the paragraph entirely, jumping to two paragraphs bellow, he reads it and gasps, “¿Qué carajo? Who wrote this? A fiveslgfjdjdfds.” A hand lands on the side of his face with a smack, smooching his cheek. Lance screams, - of course he does, how could he _not_. - and almost falls off the bed.

“SHUT YOUR ROTTEN MOUTH, I’M TRYING TO SLEEP,” Keith growls at him, voice raspy, and low, and _terrifying_. Even muffled by the pillow and drowsy, his voice doesn’t lose its aggressive edge. ** _What the fuck._**

Lance, after recovering his soul, turns his head so he can stare at Keith with raised brows, and huffs, “Hella lot of words coming from a sleeping person, I’d say.”

Keith groans and lifts his face off the pillow, glaring at him through squinty eyes, “Shut that fucking trap, you moldy piece of bread, or _get out_.”

“This is _my_ fucking room, Keith,” Lance sputters, snapping his laptop shut for added effect, “ _you_ get out.”

“I’M SLEEPING, PISS OFF,” Keith kicks at Lance’s leg with enough force to bruise.

“OW! CAREFUL WITH MY COMPUTER, YOU BRUTE!”

Keith grumbles, turning his back to Lance and covering his head with Lance’s comforter. He curls into a ball, shutting Lance out.

Lance relocates his grumpy ass to the couch after flipping an oblivious, snoring Keith off.

He loves the guy, but damn, can he be an asshole so-

…Wait, did he just-

Oh, _hell_ no.

 

* * *

 

10:34 A.M.

 **stud muffin**  
so..............  
do i even wanna know? probably not, but you're gonna tell me anyway  
pidge, cover ur eyes

 **pidgeotto**  
shut up hunk im not 5  
GIVE ME DA DEETS LANCE

 **space boi lance**  
AWWW MAN  
MY DUDES  
MY BROS  
MY PALS  
MIS HERMANOS

 **pidgeotto**  
oh boy  
here we go........  
im regretting this already

 **space boi lance**  
SHUT IT BIRD TURD  
anyway  
where was i before i was so rudely interrupted??? ah yeah  
OH MY GOD MY DUDES  
hes a screamer  
KEITH KOGANE  
OUR KEITH  
IS A SCREAMER  
ITS LIKE AAAAAA GUYS  
boi so thicc too  
goddem  
cant wait to have him up my ass honest  
such a nice dick 11/10  
reallygreat  
work of art  
grade a  
AND DAT ASS!!!!!!!! GUH SO FUCKING SMOOTH  
he looks really nice when hes sleeping too  
so soft i want to chomp on his cheeks  
ughhhhhh  
how can he be so perfect its so unfair  
im swooning i swear to GOD  
he looks hot even when hes kicking me out of my own room  
which UNFAIR

A facebook notification pops up at the top of his phone screen in the middle of his rant.

Hunk Garrett tagged you in a post, it says.

Lance arches an eyebrow, "Huh."

He taps it open.

 **Hunk Garrett** is listening to the less i know the better, by tame impala  
i’d like to dedicate this song to my good pal  **Lance Martínez**  
you know /why/  
Pidge Holt and 5 others 

 **Pidge Holt  
** HOOOOOO BOY THE BURN  
THATS Y UR MY MAIN HO HUNK  
I LOVE U

 **Matthew Holt** lol babe look at The Shade **Takashi**  

> **Takashi Shirogane** Ah yes, that is indeed The Shade Of It All *scratches chin*  
>  **Lance Martínez** shiro i love u but dude ure embarrassing get off the internet  
>  **Matthew Holt** dont trash talk the baby lance  
>  **Matthew Holt** he's sensitive  
>  **Matthew Holt** (ure adorable babe)  
>  **Takashi Shirogane** I take offence to that **Lance**  
>  **Takashi Shirogane** No more dog memes for you  
>  **Lance Martínez** NOOOOOO DAD NOT THE DOGGO MEMES  
>  **Takashi Shirogane** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
>  **Pidge Holt** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
>  **Hunk Garrett** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
>  **Matthew Holt** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**Lance Martínez** u guys are absolute TRASH

 **Lance Martínez** the WORST I TELL U WORST

 **Lance Martínez** I NEED NEW FRIENDS ASAP 

> **Pidge Holt** awwwwwwww lance i love u too <3  
>  **Pidge Holt** u can tell me everything later i'll allow it  
>  **Pidge Holt** bring food  
>  **Pidge Holt** and redbull  
>  **Pidge Holt** tons of redbull  
>  **Lance Martínez** ure... ugh  
>  **Lance Martínez** i hate u  
>  **Lance Martínez** u tiny bird turd  
>  **Pidge Holt** URE tiny  
>  **Lance Martínez** GASP U TAKE THAT BACK  
>  **Pidge Holt** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
>  **Hunk Garrett** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
>  **Matthew Holt** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
>  **Takashi Shirogane** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
>  **Allura Ourania** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
>  **Lance Martínez** LULU NOT U TOO  
>  **Allura Ourania** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

 

* * *

 

11:35 A.M.

He's avoiding the huge ass, one-sided, and glittery elephant in the room, he's avoiding the fuck out of it. He'll avoid the fuck out of it until it goes away, until it disappears for good, until it goes to fucking hell, until it's burning in the fifth circle of hell.

He has no time for this.

This project is worth 40% of his grade.

His prof's a mad man, yeah, but that's how it is. He won't flunk this class just because he can't control his feelings.

He can't, _won't_ , jeopardize his project just because of fucking _feelings._

¡ _No, de ninguna puta manera!_  

He needs a shower. 

And a joint. 

And coffee. 

Tons of coffee. 

But a shower first, then facials, then weed, then coffee.

Tons of coffee. 

He'll also down a shot of tequila, because he's feeling _adventurous_. 

( _Reckless_ , he means reckless.)

 

* * *

 

1:45 P.M.

Lance’s minding his own business, stirring his way into his fifth?? possibly, probably, he’s not sure, cup of coffee, and stuffing his face with ham and pineapple pizza rolls in the kitchen after smoking a whole joint by himself in the bathroom, when he hears _it_. _It_ is terrifying. A dull thud reverberates through the apartment, echoed by _it_ ; the most earth-shattering, ear-splitting shriek he’s ever heard.

“ _LANCE!_ ”

He freezes, his heart plummets.

His spoon drops and clatters on the floor.

“LANCE, YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD,” the deity roars.

Lance squeaks like a fucking mice, and squats, hiding behind the counter.

_Run. Pack your things and go, get out of town. Flee to Europe, change your name-_

He presses his overheated cheek to the counter and sighs, so good. He grins wide.

Keith’s feet smack on the floor as he stomps, over-aggressively, I dare add, out of Lance’s room, “What the _fuck_ did you do to my ass, you rotten egg?” His voice is louder now, much louder. Lance jumps mid giggle-fit, which sets him off into another one.

“ME!” Lance peers over the countertop and raises his hand, waving sluggishly and cackling, bloodshot eyes wide. Well, as wide as they can go, which, honestly, isn’t much, _considering_ , “I DID THE FUCK! I PUT MY DICK IN - HAH - YOUR ASS! YOU LET ME - HAHAH - IT WAS WILD!”

Keith takes a long look at him and, like a flip has switched, his scowl melts and he bursts out laughing, his nose crinkling up. It’s so fucking adorable, Lance’s heart hurts. It burns. It screams in pain. Lance laughs the pain away like the idiot he is, or maybe just because he’s high as fuck. One can never be too sure, ya feel.

“I know that, you fucking stoner, I mean THE BRUISES.” He points at his bare hips, trying to catch his breath.

Lance’s eyes travel south.

 _Helloooo_ there, legs.

Wait, he went too far.

Go back two frames.

There, hips.

Lance blinks, and tries to open his eyes further. He can’t.

He blinks again.

_Oh._

Ho _boy_ , he did a number on the guy alright.

Also, this part is super wild, bear with him, it looks weirdly… beautiful? It’s gorgeous, actually. It’s a masterpiece, Lance is an artist.

The red and purple splotches scattered across Keith’s skin are… kind of blurring together in one big ass bruise, that reminds him oddly of the Milky Way. Lance fights hard against the white urge to draw an alien-head above Keith’s hipbone. Keith probably wouldn’t mind it, though. The nerd. Lance chuckles.

Keith clears his throat.

Lance flicks his eyes up at Keith, blinks languidly at him several times. Keith’s waiting for something, isn’t he? What is it again? He rakes his brain for an answer. It beeps.

Ah, yeah.

An _answer_ , right. He needs to answer Keith, duh.

Lance cackles at his stupidity.

“Oh, _that_.” Lance wipes his eyes on his sleeve in between chuckles as he finally answers, sniffing. He braces his arms on the counter and pushes himself up on his feet, winking, “I’m not sorry about that.” He lies his torso on the counter, smooching his cheek against the cool surface, and shoots Keith a lopsided smile.

Keith shakes his head, “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, but you looooooove me,”  Lance sing-songs, finger gunning lazily with a grin.

Keith rolls his eyes fondly, and gets closer, dragging one of the stools from under the counter, and sitting down gingerly, wincing a little. His eyes flicker swiftly to something as he settles, before they land on Lance again. Keith frowns, “Should you be drinking coffee?”

Lance frowns back, puzzled, turning his head so he can look at his mug. “Shouldn’t I?” He wonders.

Keith leans over the counter, elbows propped up, and starts picking idly at one of the pizza rolls sitting pretty on the plate in front of him, “It doesn’t affect your high?”

Lance gasps. _His pizza rolls_. “No touching, you fugly mullet, it’s _mineeeeee_ ,” Lance whines, reaching forward and swatting Keith’s fugly hand away. He snatches the plate from Keith and brings it closer to himself, tucking it in between his arms, away from pizza roll-thieving mullets. Lance sticks out his tongue at him, before fitting two of the biggest rolls in his mouth. At the _same_ time. For _emphasis_. His cheeks puff out.

Keith ducks his head to hide his grin. “You look like a chipmunk,” he comments nonchalantly, tapping his knuckles idly on the surface.

“Nhobowdshy ashkd yuh, Puhtrish,” Lance shoots back.

Keith rolls his eyes and flips him off with both hands, leaning back on his stool.

Lance flashes him the half-chewed food.

“ _Fuck_ , that’s gross.”

“Ah.” Lance struggles to swallow all of it dry, but manages, “I forgot to - clears throat - answer, coffee doesn’t affect my high much.” He shrugs, taking a bite off one of the rolls. Keith hums.

Lance swallows, “Pass me the straw, please. The long, bendy one.” He gestures a thumb back.

Keith slides from the stool in one smooth movement, makes his way around the counter and goes for the drawers. Lance hears as it slides open, “Which color?”

“Purple,” Lance answers over his shoulder.

He stretches his arm when Keith pulls the straw out and makes a grabby hand at him.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Keith holds the straw over his head.

“ _Gimme_ , or I’ll punch your di-I-i-aaAAAAAah,” he tries to steal the straw from Keith, but loses his footing and almost dives face-first into the cold, hard floor. _“_ ¡ _Coño!”_ He fumbles to keep upright, hooking a hand on the edge of the other side of the counter. Thank fuck for long fingers.

Lance manages to get his balance back by planting his feet firmly on the ground. Keith makes his way back to his stool, and once he’s settled, he hands Lance the straw already stretched. Keith’s lips quiver in a poorly concealed attempt not to laugh, eyes twinkling mirthfully.

Lance rolls his eyes as he throws the straw into his cup, propping himself on his elbow and resting his chin on his palm.

Keith makes gagging sounds, bangs falling on his eyes.

Lance ignores him in order to bring the straw to his lips with his free hand, and suck the coffee, swallowing in an obnoxiously loud gulp.  

Keith’s nose wrinkles in disgust. “You’re gross,” Keith comments, tucking his hair behind his ears.

“Thanks, I try,” Lance grins around his straw, then frowns at Keith’s bare chest. “Shouldn’t you put on some clothes, though?” Lance asks, eyes half-lidded, “It’s freezing, Keith.”

Keith raises an eyebrow, looking down. “Off-topic, but no, Lance, it’s not,” he shoots Lance a _look_ , rubbing the bridge of his nose, “And how would you know, anyway? You’re high.”

“What’s this jealousy I’m feeling? There’s more, you know.” He pats the breast pocket of his sweatshirt with a dopey smile, and meets Keith’s eyes as he takes a sip, waggling his brows. He swallows and winks, “Don’t need to get all broody on me, grumpy pants.”

Keith hides his face on his arms and groans. Lance can see the blush rising on Keith’s neck, and allows himself a mental pat on the back as he pushes himself upright.

“Okay, let’s go,” Lance trots towards his bedroom.

 

* * *

 

3:32 P.M.

When they sober up enough to get stuff done, they throw themselves on the couch, legs tangled because why not, right? It's not like Lance's life makes any sense, anyway.

Lance with the camera in his hands and laptop on his stomach, Keith with his headphones around his ears, and one of his weird, edgy sci-fi books resting on his thighs.

Lance rests his head on the armrest and hits play.

Keith's feet tap a comforting rhythm against Lance's.

 

* * *

 

4:02 P.M.

Keith falls asleep against the couch, mouth slightly open.

Lance does a poor job at reducing the volume of his laughter at his dramatics on video. Even though Keith's got his headphones on, Lance still manages to wake him up, and ends up getting kicked in the shin by a very rumpled, grumpy, and over-sized baby with a fugly mullet for that.

He tries not to laugh again.

...He fails miserably, and both his shins suffer.

Terribly.

 

* * *

 

4:30 P.M.

Because Lance has shit luck, and the universe is out to get him, they didn’t manage to catch Keith’s o-face on video. Life is unfair, God hates him, Jesus hates him, even Buddha must hate him, because this, right here, has got to be some sort of twisted divine punishment. Maybe it’s Karma, maybe he was a murderer in his past life, he doesn’t know. What he does know, though, is that this _must_ be fixed.

“Dude,” he kneels on the couch and shakes Keith’s knee to wake him up, “ _Dude_. DUDE!”

Keith’s eyes flutter open and he squints at Lance, blinking blearily, utterly confused.

Lance sits back on his heels and he offers Keith the camera, “ _Look_.”

Keith, while frowning up at him, sits up and takes it. He yawns, unplugging his headphones from his phone and into the camera. He hits play.

Keith snaps the camera shut after about ten minutes, a furious blush burning his high cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. He still looks mildly confused, though, and astoundingly flustered, bringing his knees to his chest.

Lance bites on his bottom lip and heaves a huge breath. “We’ll have to tape chapter 1 again,” he clarifies.

Keith lifts an eyebrow, face still bright red, “Because…”

“I can’t see your face when you’re coming, dude.” Lance explains, waving his hands at the camera in exasperation, “That’s unacceptable, you know. really preposterous. I can’t have this, I can’t WRITE like this. This is a disaster. We _gotta_ redo this, _Keith_. It’s a matter of _life and death_.” He grabs both Keith’s knees and shakes.

“But- _I’m awake now, dipshit, quit shaking me_ ,” He snaps, batting Lance’s hands away from his knees, “But… don’t you remember my face when I was _actually_ coming yesterday?”

So, you see… remember when Lance mentioned he has shit luck, and the universe is out to get him, and some sort of divine punishment is being inflicted upon him? There’s another reason to back up that assessment.

They not only _hadn’t caught_ Keith’s o-face on video, but he also didn’t get to see Keith’s o-face in living color yesterday because _he had his fucking eyes closed_. Which _rude_ , Lance. That is just plain rude. There’s no excuses. That’s probably why God, Jesus, and Buddha hate you this much.

Lance hangs his head. “I- I had my eyes closed,” he confesses, accepting defeat.

“You’re hopeless.”

Lance’s head shoots up and he gasps, “Excuse!”

“No,” Keith stands up abruptly, almost kneeing Lance’s nose in the process.

Lance squawks and reels back, out of reach, eyes wide, “Wha-”

“Shut the fuck up, you dry raisin,” Keith glares accusingly at him and Lance flinches, “I’ll fix this.”

“Kei-”

Keith’s arm shoots up, and he points his index finger at Lance, thick eyebrows pinched. “Stay put,” he warns, waving his finger, “don’t fucking move, don’t _breathe_.”

Lance is too confused to react, or even say anything, so he just gapes.

“ _Just_ … stay there, I’ll be quick.”

Keith returns buck naked, with a dildo and the lube in hands.

Lance’s at a loss, he’s a loss for words, his sass is gone, along with his ability to form coherent thoughts. Keith has that effect on him, apparently. Keith always finds a way to give Lance whiplash.  

Keith dumps the stuff on the coffee table and turns his attention to Lance, he chuckles at what he sees there, “Shut your mouth, Lance, you’ll catch a fly.”

Lance finds his voice. “Wha-” he clears his throat, and shakes his head before continuing, “What the _fuck_?” (Eloquent.)

Keith rolls his eyes as he picks up the camera, “You’re gonna tape me as I touch myself.”

Keith hands Lance the camera.

“I don’t…” Lance takes it, still completely dumbfounded.

Keith cuts him off, “I told you I’d fix this, didn’t I? So this is me, _fixing_ it.”

Something in Lance’s brain seems to click.

“Oh,” he replies dumbly.

Oh _no,_ is what he means, _no fucking way_. He’s gonna die today.

Yup, today is the day.

“Okay, so…” Keith claps his hands, “scooch over, I need the space.”

Lance’s eyes widen, “You really gonna do this _here_? On the couch?”

“Is there a problem?”

 _Yes._ There’s a ton of problems, actually. Not with Keith doing it on the couch, but still, there’s a problem. Tons of problems. These problems have problems. For one, Lance will probably die. For two, he can’t do this anymore. He can’t but he has to, and he will because his project is worth 40% of his final grade, he will because he _has to_. He has the moral duty to prove to Keith, and to himself, that he, as a matter of fact, _can_ do this, even if he’ll end up hurt. Fuck his feelings.

“No, no, nope, no problem at all. I’m all up for jerking off on the couch, sign me the fuck up. It’s just…” Lance blows a raspberry, scratching the back of his head, looking around the room, uncertain. He can’t meet Keith’s eyes, “it looks too cramped, I think? I was just, uhm, thinking that maybe, I don’t know, you’d prefer doing this on a bed?”

Keith snorts, “Nah, it’s okay.”

Lance finally looks at him, searching his face, “You sure? Like, 100%?”

Keith rolls his eyes, “ _Yes_ Lance, don’t worry, just… keep the camera on me.”  

Lance sits upright, crisscrossing his legs, and points the camera at Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spanish translations:  
>  _¡BESA MI CULO, PUTO!_ Kiss my ass(hole), bitch.  
>  _No seas tonto, Lance._ Don't be stupid, Lance.  
>  _¡No, de ninguna puta manera!_ No, no fucking way.  
>  _¿Qué carajo?_ What the fuck? (or as i like to say it, what the dick? lmao)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew *wipes forehead* i managed to PORN!!!!! I'M SO HAPPY HELLO!!!! I PORNED GOD IS GOOD, I'M AWESOME, YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME WITH YOUR COMMENTS, I LOVE U ALL!!!! I DID IT!!!!  
> 2.5k of porn and pure nonsense, rejoice!!

Keith reaches down, dragging his fingers over his thighs, leaving faint red marks along their expanse with his nails, back arching. Lance bites back a moan, hips stuttering as he watches Keith easing a finger inside himself with little to no resistance.

Keith’s head lolls to the side and his mouth drops open in a breathy groan when he starts fucking himself, testing the stretch and humming, the corner of his mouth lifts slightly in a pleased smirk, chest heaving a little. Lance feels so fucking inadequate he’d be laughing, or crying, if his dick wasn’t about to pop. Maybe, possibly crying. Totally crying.

Keith bites down on his lip and sinks another finger in with a groan, eyebrows knitting together, his hips snap forward, burying his fingers deeper, the muscles on his stomach twitch as he shudders. He throws his head back and moans when he angles his fingers just right.

Lance drags his teeth over his bottom lip, dick jumping in his sweatpants and fingers jerking reflexively. He fumbles not to drop the camera, blood rushing through his ears, leaving him in a daze.

Jesus fuck, he almost dropped the camera on his dick right now, didn’t he? He’s sure, he can feel it in his groin. Or _maybe_ he’s just too turned on and is starting to lose his shit. Either way, dropping the camera on his dick? That would’ve been bad, really fucking bad, he’ll tell you. Thank god he didn’t. Thank god his dick is safe and unscathed.  
  
He blinks, heaving a huge breath and sitting up straight. Keith’s too wrapped up in his own world, features contorting in pleasure, to notice Lance’s composure crumbling right before him. That’s good for Lance, at least.  
  
Lance brings his knees closer to his chest, - it’s kinda very fucking uncomfortable to move with a hard dick between his legs but he manages, with only a hiss when his sweatpants graze against the oversensitive head. - and props his elbows on them, using them for support. He angles the camera so it can capture only Keith’s face, then looks up at the ceiling.

He blows a raspberry.  
  
_FUCK._  
  
He blames Keith’s hipbones.  
  
For real, though, those things are a menace. They should be illegal. Lance should sue Keith for damaging his mental health with those hips, like, serious talk, man. He can’t concentrate enough to keep his hands steady. And those bruises… _fuck_.

He can’t fuck this up, you know, this project’s really important to his creative writing class, dude. Did he mention it’s worth 40% of his final grade? So yeah, he needs a distraction, like, fucking stat.   
  
He’s gotta do something with his hands, though, other than holding this damn camera. He needs a break, he can’t come in his pants now, what the fuck. He’s not sixteen anymore, he’s too old for this.

DISTRACT ME, BRAIN.  
  
ALIEN HEAD! his brain supplies, helpful for a change.

Lance gasps.  
  
“WAIT, _STOP_!”  
  
His head snap back just in time to see Keith jump and ram his fingers into his ass hard. Keith throws his head back and shouts, voice cracking, FUCK LA-AH- _NCE_!“ His back arches, and he grips the base of his dick to keep himself from coming. (Lance’s eyebrows shoot up at that. _Interesting._ )

Keith slumps on the couch.

Lance pauses the footage and fumbles to get on his knees to peer at Keith, hissing through his teeth when his dick protests. "You okay?” he asks, voice raising a little in pitch.  
  
Keith lifts his head off the arm of the couch to glare at Lance, eyes half-lidded and slick lips slightly parted as he pants, trying to recover his breath.  
  
Lance’s dick twitches at that, like the inappropriate shit it is.  
  
Okay, context? Yeah, context is important.  
  
So! Lance might not be high anymore, but remember when he mentioned something about doodling an alien head on Keith’s hip when he was actually high?  
  
Well, right now, drawing that alien head is very high on Lance’s list of priorities. Not only because it’s a damn awesome idea, but also because it sounds like a pretty good distraction to him.  
  
Maybe if Lance transfers his undivided attention to that alien head, instead of Keith prepping himself to shove a PURPLE DILDO (where Keith got that is a mystery Lance’s not sure he wants unraveled) up his ass, and making all sorts of sounds, he might pull this camera man stunt off. Yeah, great idea, Lance. Let’s go with that. You’re a motherfucking genius, you deserve a fucking medal, you crafty, _gorgeous_ fuck.  
  
After Keith assures him he’s fine, that it didn’t even hurt, it just caught him by surprise and it was kinda great, - Lance’ll tease him about this later - Lance continues. Both their dicks are soft now, though, which yay for Lance and not so yay for Keith, but they can, and will, fix that later.

“SO! I gotta do something! It’s like fucking god sent me this message, you know, and I can’t just leave GOD hanging now, can I? I need to find a pen first.”  
  
“Actually…”  
  
“Fuck’s sake! I don’t have time for your fucking existential crisis right now, Keith, whether god exists or not isn’t gonna help me find a pen any faster. You know, _priorities_.”  
  
“Maybe you’d find one faster if you actually got your damn ass off the couch. I don’t know, it’s just a suggestion.”  
  
“Your sass is not appreciated, hold this.”  
  
Keith raises his hand and Lance scrunches his nose up when he notices it’s covered in lube, “You know what, never mind.” He places it on the couch between them instead and jumps to his feet.

He hears Keith chuckling behind him.

 

* * *

 

Lance stumbles on a box full of all sorts of toys in Keith’s room in his search for a pen that actually works on skin, he even finds a gag, a fucking _paddle_ and some handcuffs. Keith’s kinkier than he thought, the fuck. Who would’ve thought? He’s been living with the guy for three years and didn’t even suspect about this, and this stuff wasn’t even hidden properly.

He’s heard Keith fucking before, sure (just like Keith’s also probably heard him fucking, they’re pretty sexually active guys, you know). It sounded pretty tame, though? He probably would’ve noticed if someone was being spanked in the room right next to his, spanking sounds aren’t exactly subtle.

Maybe Keith picked up on this kind of thing recently? Or maybe he doesn’t do the kinky shit here, out of respect for Lance? Nah, doesn’t sound very likely cause, knowing how Keith is, Lance doesn’t think he’d really give a shit about that kind of stuff. Or maybe he does that when Lance’s at his night classes? Who fucking knows.

Lance’s glad, though, that he’s getting to see this side of Keith. It does crazy shit to his dick and his heart hurts like crazy. He’ll probably pop a rando stiffy at class like a teenager thinking about this, sure, but whatever, he can live with that, if he gets to keep fucking Keith.

Maybe, hopefully, Keith’ll agree to keep this up after the project is done. That’d be fucking fantastic.

He finds a working pen in Keith’s drawer, and he’s not even surprised when he also finds this weird tingling lube inside. He’s kind of excited about this one, actually. He’ll even add this to one of his stories later, so he and Keith can try this one.

 

* * *

 

“What the fuck are you planning to do with that?” Keith asks as Lance settles back on the couch, twirling the pen between his fingers.

“I’m gonna draw on your hip.”

“Okay… why?”

“Because I need a distraction after almost busting a nut?”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Your face doesn’t make sense.”

“Wow, quality comeback that one.”

“Shut up and let me draw.”

“Why on me?”

“Because!”

“Okay fine, what the _fuck_ ever,” Keith takes the camera off the couch and places it next to his hideous dildo. He slumps on the couch and Lance leans forward.

“Don’t move,” he tells Keith as he presses the tip of the pen against his skin. Keith giggles and coughs.  
  
Wait.

Lance pauses and looks up at Keith, whose nose’s gone pink.  
  
Lance almost cries with joy, “Keith, are you _ticklish_?”  
  
“Hell no,” he shoots back a bit too fast, looking away.

Lance’s eyebrow shoots up.

“Don’t even fucking _think_ about it, Martínez. I’ll kill you.”  
  
“Psshhht, right. Later, though. I gotta do this, try not to squirm too much, kay. Thanks." 

 

* * *

 

"It’s fucking ugly,” Keith says, looking at his hip with wonder.

“That’s a lie and you know it.”

Keith looks up at him and beams, “I _love_ it.”

Lance’s heart punches him in the chest.

 

* * *

 

Lance picks the camera up, but it doesn’t turn on when he presses the button.

He tries again, then groans, “Fuck, it’s _dead_.”

“The fuck, Lance? How’s it dead?”

“Did you charge it?”

“I thought you…”

Lance throws his head back and sighs dramatically, “Oh my _god_ , we’re so fucking stupid. Whatever, we’ll use your phone.”

“Why mine?”

Lance smirks, rolling his head to the side to look at Keith, amusement coating his tone, “Cause you’re the kinky one?”

“Solid logic, Lance,” Keith deadpans, hands on his hips, alien head shifting, “I’m impressed at how smart you are.”

Lance glares, “You know what, scratch that, we’ll use your phone just cause of that comeback.”

 

* * *

 

Spoiler alert: he doesn't manage to pull the camera man stunt off.

“Oh my god Lance, you’re fucking useless. Here, give me the fucking phone, I’ll record this shit.”

“How’re you…”

“You’re sucking me off.”

“Oh. Okay, then. Got it. Prepare to be blown away, mullet boy.”

“I’m regretting all my life decisions.”

“Shut up, I’m awesome.”

 

* * *

  
  
Lance looks up, releasing Keith’s dick with a wet pop when he notices that the angle of the phone is kinda wrong. is Keith… that sneaky fuck. Lance raises an eyebrow, “you should be recording your own face, you know.”  
  
Keith bites back a smirk, the bridge of his nose’s bright red, “Mmhmm."   
  
Lance grabs Keith’s dick and squeezes, "I’m serious.”

Keith keens, stomach spasming, “ _Fuck._ ”

Lance hums, mouth roaming over Keith’s dick.  
  
Keith stares at him through half lidded eyes, lips parted as he pants, and face pink. He shoots him a toothy, lopsided grin that makes Lance’s heart stutter, “You look too good like this, I gotta keep record, you know. Blackmail material, and etc.”  
  
Lance squeezes Keith’s dick again, teeth grazing over the head, feather-like, cause he’s not a fucking sadist and Keith’s lips part further as he whines, “Y- you _fucker_.” Lance smirks, lapping at the slit. He closes his lips around the head and sucks, Keith’s free hand drops to his hair, blunt nails biting at his scalp, making Lance shudder.   
  
Lance pulls back but Keith doesn’t let him go too far, gripping at the strands. Lance reaches for Keith’s wrist and tugs gently until the grip loosens, then he looks up at Keith, “I’m super serious, Keith, you gotta do it selfie style.” He uses Keith’s hand to point accusingly at its owner.  
  
Keith rolls his eyes, twisting his wrist on Lance’s grip to try and flick Lance’s forehead, “…Or I could swap to selfie mode when I’m real close to coming, then I get to keep a video of you sucking me off, and you’ll get to keep a video of my orgasm face. How about that?”  
  
Lance holds the hand to the side, away from his face and levels Keith with a _look_ , “Keith.”  
  
“That seriousness is so out of character when you’re kneeling between my legs, Lance.”  
  
Lance lifts both eyebrows, using his free hand to close Keith’s into a loose fist. he brings it to his chin, “Methinks the lad doth whines too much.”  
  
Keith manages to flick Lance’s nose this time, “You’re using that expression wrong.”  
  
Lance wrinkles his nose with a grin. “Hm? What’d ya say?” Lance cups Keith’s hand around his ear, “I can’t hear you over your whining.”  
  
Keith’s lips twitch slightly, eyes alight with amusement, “You’re fucking ridiculous.”  
  
“Oh?” Lance releases Keith’s wrist and uses both hands to spread Keith’s thighs wider, he leans forward, mouthing at the head. Keith gasps when Lance swallows him down without any sort of warning. The head of Keith’s dick hits the back of his throat, and Lance swallows enthusiastically. Keith cries out, hips bucking up.  
  
Lance pins him back to the couch, and drags his lips up Keith’s shaft, sucking at the head hard and sinking back down, tongue flat. He hollows out his cheeks and bobs his head, curling his tongue around the head at every upstroke.  
  
He pulls back to tongue at the slit and Keith’s body trembles slightly beneath his hands. He looks up through his lashes to see Keith white knuckling his phone, bottom lip caught between his teeth. His eyes are obscenely hooded, making Lance’s mouth go dry. Lance groans and drags his teeth lightly over Keith’s dick again, which spasms in his mouth. Lance grins, sucking at the head, a bit of precome mixed with spit dribbles down the side of his mouth and he pulls back to catch it with his thumb and bring it to his mouth to suck at it while smirking up at Keith, who’s panting hard.  
  
“You were saying…"   
  
"Fuck Lance, _FUCK_.”  
  
“Hmmm,” Lance pats Keith’s hips, then drags his fingers down his thighs, resting them on his knees, “hold the phone tight for a sec,” he tells Keith as he pushes them forward and closer to Keith’s chest, exposing Keith’s ass. Lance’s dick throbs painfully because _fuck_ , Keith’s bendy as fuck. 

He leans down until his mouth is lining up with Keith’s entrance. Keith’s breath hitches when Lance nuzzles his balls, dropping hard kisses on the sensitive spot beneath them, then Lance tongues at Keith’s hole, making Keith hiss and his legs twitch. Lance’s not sure how Keith hasn’t already dropped the phone on Lance’s fucking head, cause if he were in Keith’s place, he’d be thrashing the fuck out right about now.

“L-Lance, wait,” Keith sounds so out of breath it’d be funny, if it wasn’t so fucking _hot_ , “I gotta swap the camera.”

Lance grins and pulls back, wrapping his hand loosely around Keith’s dick and pumping it lazily.

“Done,” Keith breathes out.

Lance swallows Keith down at the same time he thrusts a finger inside Keith’s ass. Keith whines loudly and clenches around Lance's fingers, coming so fucking hard, Lance almost chokes on his dick.

 

* * *

 

“Holy fuck,” Lance makes an ugly noise, pressing the heel of his palm on his dick as they watch Keith coming on video. Keith’s fucking _face_ , “that’s _so fucking hot, ughn- wh-ah-t the **fuck**._ ”

Keith peers at him curiously, “Lance?”

Lance looks up at him and smiles awkwardly, panting hard. He clears his throat before speaking, “I think I just, uh… came in my pants?”

Keith’s eyes widen and he stares at Lance for a beat, then bursts out laughing.

 

* * *

 

> _OPERATOR: 911, what’s your emergency?_
> 
> _CALLER: Yeah hi! So, I want to report my own murder. My friend killed me with his o-face. His name is Keith. Keith Kogane. Yeah, with a K. Arrest him. Yes, I’m sure he killed me, I was there. Yup, I want someone to come pick up my body._
> 
>  

* * *

 

Keith Kogane replied to your comment on Hunk Garrett’s post.

 **Keith Kogane** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im here rereading the chapter and feeling like i should mess things up a bit more turn it NASTY AND WET LMAO IDK I SLEPT ABOUT 2 HOURS IGNORE ME ooorrrrrrrr u can hmu on [tumblr](http://eonchian.tumblr.com/) *finger guns*


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello what is this??? is this what i think it is? is it real? is it a mirage???? NO ITS NOT ITS JUST ME UPDATING AFTER GOD FUCKING KNOWS HOW LONG! omg im so sorry to keep you waiting for so long, my guys, seriously. but life ain't so easy, i needed to take time to take care of my mental health, which is still kinda trash, not gonna lie, but i was feeling good enough to write something for you guys! i hope you enjoy it, it's true, i do! thank u for sticking around, if u did, love you. I LOVE YALL SO MUCH ALL OF U
> 
> 3k of pure nonsense as always!!
> 
> xo luv u

**lance:**  
i busted a nut

 **keith:**  
oh joy

 **lance:**  
[sends [pic](https://images.rapgenius.com/72c85e1b387443ac426a3e184af11078.300x205x1.gif) of an actual busted nut]

 **lance:**  
#lewd #nsfw

 **keith:**  
blocked

 

* * *

 

Lance wakes up with the worst stomach ache he’s had in like forever. A motherfucker of a stomach ache. The Worst™. The stomach ache to end all stomach aches. The stomach ache to put all stomach aches to rest in shame. Life is hell, he’s in hell.

He presses his face into his pillow and groans. He’s so fucking miserable it hurts his pride. 

Okay, you wanna know the truth? This has happened way more often than he cares to admit. Way too often, honestly, one too many times, it’s happened so many fucking times he’s lost count cause he’s a shit who wouldn’t know healthy even if it fucked him in the ass, is why. 

Yeah, you’re right, a guy who claims his skin is his most important feature and has an entire, and very thorough, I might add, skin care routine should be eating healthy. Or, at least, _healthier_ on a daily basis, less takeout and more, dunno, vegetables? Homemade meals, whatever. 

If he could care he wouldn’t, though, cause he can’t cook for shit. 

What about Keith, you ask. Well, if Lance’s bad, and Lance _is_ pretty bad, Keith’s fucking _hopeless._  

Get this, he almost blew up their entire apartment trying to nuke fucking _tekitos_ , can you believe that? How hard can that be? Seriously? And to top all that, they’re both lazy as fuck. 

The math is easy, put shitty eating habits, shitty cooking skills and shitty disposition together and what do you get? Yup, shitty intestines. See? It’s not rocket science. 

Real talk: you can only live on takeout for too long before your intestines start giving you shit. I’m serious. That’s just how it is, my dudes, I don’t make the rules. It’s a real fucking pity, honestly. 

Look at the bright side, though, at least Lance can safely nuke some fucking tekitos without putting anything - other than his own hands and pride, but that’s secondary and nobody needs to know about _that one incident_ , least of all Keith - in jeopardy, thank you very much. 

God, he misses Hunk’s cooking. He should give him a call, see how he’s doing, maybe ask him if he’s up for cooking some alt vegan shit for Lance. Some tasty detox grub. Fucking anything. Probably not, but let a man dream. 

He shifts in his bed and his stomach screams at him. It feels like, dunno, sharks? Yeah, sharks. It feels like sharks are getting a real good kick at chewing Lance’s stomach until there’s only a void, a very, very painful fucking void left. This is bad, it’s so bad, so bad he thinks he might die. He might be dying, what if he’s dying? Oh my god, he’s dying, he’s gonna die. 

His life flashes before his eyes. He can see the light. 

He comes to a simple conclusion: he fucking regrets all his life decisions with a vengeance. 

Okay, okay. Pause. Enough drama, he needs to fucking shit. Priorities.

Resume: He’s not smooth, or maybe he is, like a goose or something, in his haste to get to the bathroom, so he trips on his own feet and comes impossibly close to busting his fucking nose on the sink, so close he could almost hear it cracking if not for him bracing himself on the doorframe with both hands.

Plot twist: He can’t avoid hitting his pinky toe on Keith’s poop stool when he plops down carelessly on the toilet seat, though. 

 _Fuck_ this shit.

"FUCK THIS HUGE PILE OF SHIT!" Lance battle cries and kicks Keith's fucking useless poop stool with so much feeling he tears up a little bit.

Slow motion: It hits the wall, the wall sends it right back to him, he sees it coming but is too baffled at his own shit luck to do much of anything, so the stool ends up hitting him in the shin.

Back to normal: IT DEAD ASS HITS HIM IN THE SHIN, because why the fuck not, right? Break his fucking tibia already, why don't you, you bitter bag of dildos. It’s not like he needs his leg, right. Bitch.

It sends a jolt up his entire fucking leg, so violent it leaves his hipbone tingling, his fucking _hipbone_ , his fucking hipbone is tingling.

He doubles over screaming, vocal cords malfunctioning and stuttering in pure, unadulterated agony.

That’s gonna leave a nasty bruise, for sure. His life is just amazing, isn’t it? Awe inspiring, he’s flabbergasted.

He bites down on his bottom lip, eyes welling up with tears. His hipbone still fucking tingles.

Why did it have to be his shin? Goddamnit. THIS FUCKING!

This is all Keith's fault, Keith and his fucking poop stool, swear to god. Why? Why a fucking poop stool, Keith, _why_.

He’s so fucking weird, Jesus Christ Almighty.

Who in fucking hell takes their shit with their feet propped on a damn stool? Weirdo losers, that’s who. That’s right, Keith is a fucking weirdo loser and Lance hates his guts.

Flashback time: Lance had side-eyed Keith so hard the first time he saw him doing that, because seriously, what the fuck, right? Again, WHO does that?

Answer: Keith Kogane, because he’s a fucking wEiRdO LoSeR.

“You know, shitting with both feet on the ground makes your rectum fold like a water hose,” Keith had told him, ugly ass feet propped on his ugly ass stool.

“Bullshit. Who the fuck says rectum anyway?”

Keith had rolled his eyes, leaning back on the toilet seat and crossing his arms,  “Well hoe, believe it or not, it does, that's why you get half a shit stuck up your ass sometimes, or can’t even shit at all.”

Shit, I got sidetracked. Where was I?

Ah yes, Lance and his need to shit.

Present time: Lance rubs at his chin, takes a deep breath and goes to work. Except it doesn’t work.

He looks up at the ceiling to send a little prayer before he starts pushing again. One, two, three, seven, except it doesn’t work.

He’s struggling hard, veins are popping out, his face is turning purple, the whole shebang, which would've been funny if his poor ass wasn't suffering like a cat in heat.

Seriously, he would be laughing right now, if it weren’t him in this position, but unfortunately he is, and his asshole is crying. Well, not really cause it’s too fucking dry, so dry he can’t shit. Lance is definitely crying, though.

What a day to be alive.

Lance startles out of his struggles when Keith barges in, pillow creases stamped on his soft, sleepy cheek, eyelids swollen, a slight blush up his cheeks. He looks warm, like really fucking warm. Also, cosy.

Lance sighs and sags against the toilet lid.

God, he misses his bed.

He also misses shitting regularly like a normal human being.

Keith looks at him and frowns, squints, then scowls, "Great, my bladder'll explode."

Fuck him.

Lance’s hate for Keith's guts intensifies, he’s almost boiling with hatred, he hates him so much he’s gonna scream.  
  
Not to mention...  
  
"EX _CU_ SE ME????” Lance’s voice cracks but he doesn’t give a shit, ha fucking ha, jokes on him, “Some fucking damn privacy, the fuck?"  
  
Keith blinks blearily at him, unfazed. "Your tongue was up my ass two days ago, Lance," he quips around a yawn wide enough to wrinkle his nose up, rubbing the sleep off one eye, "this is - pause for another yawn. there. resume - fucking nothing."

That’s… that’s a good point. Damn it.

  
Lance glares ugly at his profile, mouth slacking around a yawn reflexively, as the weirdo bends down to wash his face.  
  
"Okay Lance, finish up, I need to fucking pee."  
  
"HOLD A DAMN MINUTE, WILL YA, SHITFUCK." Lance cringes at how constipated he sounds, he can feel the strain in his neck.

Keith examines his face, his mouth twitches up into a lazy, lopsided, demonic little thing, "Your intestines giving you shit again, Lance? Do you want me to make you some coffee?" He teases, reaching for his toothbrush.

Lance fucking hates his fucking guts.

"FUCK YOU TOO, YOU SHITTY ANUS!" He shoots back, kicking Keith's fucking useless poop stool again for emphasis. He's angry, let him kick shit. He’s venting. It's cathartic, okay, fuck you.

The stool topples over and finally, FINALLY,  to Lance's utter fucking relief, hits the tiles like a miserable burnt waffle, instead of his shin. Blessed be. Fuck you, Murphy's law, see your ass in hell. He kicks the stool again for good measure.

"Now, now," keith admonishes, voice muffled by his toothbrush, he takes it out of his mouth to spit in the sink, then looks back at Lance, "Don't need to throw a tantrum about it, it's your own fault your eating habits suck."  
  
"EAT MY SHIT."  
  
"Well," Keith points his toothbrush at him smugly, "You gotta actually shit first."  
  
“I CAN'T FUCKING BELIEVE, FUCK OFF! GO PISS IN THE KITCHEN SINK OR AT SHIRO'S, I DON'T FUCKING CARE! JUST GO! I DON'T WANNA SEE YOUR SHITTY FACE RIGHT NOW!”

"Tough shit, boo," Keith blows him a kiss before sticking his toothbrush back in his mouth, a little bit of foam dribbles down his chin and it’s so adorable Lance forces himself to grimace.

“Would you fuck off if I told you your mullet's pretty?” He gripes.

“What was that?” he turns to Lance with one brow raised, toothbrush hanging between his slightly parted and foamy lips.

“I SAID, WOULD YOU KINDLY FUCK THE FUCK OFF IF I TOLD YOU YOUR MULLET'S FUCKING PRETTY? FUCK! SHITTY!!!! I MEAN SHITTY, FUCKING AUTO CORRECT.”

“Don’t use that meme on me, you absolute shit, and stop screaming, we’re having an actual real life face-to-face interaction right now,” he throws water at Lance.

“The FUCK, you heathen. HUMANS MAKE MISTAKES NOW KINDLY, GO PISS AT SHIRO'S.”

“Well, I’m not human, so.”

“OH MY GOD, GET OUT OF THIS BATHROOM BEFORE I THROW THIS FUCKING STOOL IN UR SHITTY FACE!”

Keith throws his head back to gargle some water, his eyes glinting with amusement before spitting it in the sink. He washes his toothbrush, shakes the excess water and rubs his mouth dry with the back of his hand while putting his toothbrush back in its holder. He turns to Lance and winks, sauntering off the bathroom like he’s not almost pissing his pants. That guy, swear.

“I KNOW WHAT I SAID BUT DON’T FUCKING PISS IN THE KITCHEN SINK, MAN, GO PISS AT SHIRO'S!!!”

He can hear Keith cackle fading into the background.

Lance rolls his eyes and sighs, his ass is starting to hurt.

Oh well, what can you do.

Back to work, then, guess.

 

* * *

  
He’s once again startled out of his struggles when someone barges in the bathroom.

This time it’s not Keith, but Pidge.

Lance stares at her in utter confusion but she just shrugs and hops on the counter, feet dangling, "Keith's got a new tattoo and Shiro's freaking out about it, I’m on my period and ain’t got no time for that shit, swear.”

Lance winces, "Fuck, I’m sor- WAIT, KEITH’S GOT A NEW TATTOO????" He jumps to his feet, sweatpants falling to his ankles.  
  
Pidge’s face contorts in disgust, "Wipe your fucking ass, Lance, the fuck."  
  
"I DON’T HAVE TO, I CAN’T SHIT." He throws his arms up and his dick wobbles.

Pidge covers her eyes, “WOAH THERE DUDE, HAKUNA YOUR TATAS. And yes, he did? I thought you knew? You guys are fucking, aren’t you?”

“I mean yes, but…” Realisation hits. His eyes bug out. “OH MY GOD.”

Cue: Lance almost rips his sweatpants in his haste to pull them up and sprint like a fucking lunatic out the door.

Glance: Pidge spies through her fingers and rolls her eyes so hard at Lance’s frantic retreating back, she thinks, just for a split second, they might get stuck in the back of her head permanently like that. What a load of crap.

“What the fuck?” Pidge stares at the ceiling with wide, incredulous eyes, “I’m surrounded by fucking weirdos.”

* * *

“Okay, what the fuck is happening in this damn household,” Lance goes through the door.

Shiro’s head whips around and he… doesn’t look too happy. He looks downright disappointed, to be honest.

Matt comes into view with a mug of coffee in hand, hair a mess and glasses slightly off kilter. He sighs. “Shiro’s acting all weird cause grumpy cat here,” he points his mug at Keith, who’s sitting on the couch with his feet up the coffee table with a mug of his own between his hands, “got a tattoo without consulting him first.”

“I’m not-”

Keith rolls his eyes, taking a sip off his coffee.

“Which is stupid,” Matt looks pointedly at Shiro, cutting him off, “and I already told him to quit being a baby about it.”

“But babe,” Shiro’s voice is exasperated, he flails his arms around, “It’s his first! I should’ve been his first!”

Keith chokes.

Matt raises an eyebrow and takes a sip, clearly amused.

“That didn’t sound weird at all,” Lance snickers behind his hand.

“Jesus fuck, Takashi,” Keith heaves, wiping his face, “way to make things weird.”

“Shut up Keith,” Shiro huffs, “you promised me you’d let me tattoo you first and then you go and stab me in the back like this. A fucking betrayal. My own fucking family!” He exclaims, “I have feelings, you know!”

“How old are you? Six?”

“Six years older than you, _kid_.”

Keith narrows his eyes, “Oh, _real_ mature.”

“Okay children, enough,” Matt places his mug on the coffee table, “Shiro, stop being a baby and Keith, stop provoking him. I can’t believe this shit, honestly, this family’s gonna be the death of me.”

“I feel you, man,” Lance salutes.

“Shut up, Lance,” Keith and Shiro say in unison.

“Yikes, good to see you’re back in synch, my guys. Welcome back,” He deadpans.

Keith stick his tongue out and flips him off.

Matt disappears into the kitchen.

Shiro rolls his eyes and reaches for Matt’s mug, taking a sip and grimacing, “Way too fucking sweet.” He shrugs and takes another sip, following after his boyfriend.

Lance chuckles, “Now that that’s settled,” He clicks his tongue and turns to Keith, “WHAT THE FUCK.”

Keith jumps and splashes coffee on himself with a yelp, “LANCE! SHIT!” He puts the mug down and shakes his hand, stray droplets catching on the couch, “Someone get me a towel, shit.”

“I gotchu, fam,” Matt throws him the dishrag from the kitchen entrance.

“Thanks,” Keith grunts as he catches it and starts wiping himself off, he looks up at Lance with wide eyes, “What the fuck.”

“That’s what I just said, you idiot. You got a fucking tattoo and didn’t care to fucking tell? Brutal man, I thought we bonded.”

“Fuck no, not you too, not in my damn house, Martínez,” Matt reappears with a plate stacked with pancakes, voice muffled around a bite. He holds the plate to Lance, “Shove this in your mouth and shut up. _Jesus_.”

Lance eyes the pancakes warily, “Did you make those?”

Matt laughs, “Fuck no, it was Shiro.”

Lance hums and takes one from the stack, he rolls it up and takes a bite, he hums again, “It’s good.”

“Only thing I can make without burning the whole place.” Shiro says proudly, coming behind Matt to steal one pancake from the stack. Matt rolls his eyes but smiles fondly when Shiro plants a loud kiss on his neck.

“Gross,” Keith says from the couch, which gets him a pancake slap on the face from Shiro. He chuckles and shoves the whole thing in his mouth, cheeks puffing up.

“Now who’s gross,” Shiro teases.

“Nhow whosh grosh,” Keith mocks around a mouthful.

Matt cackles, throwing his head back, “Goddamn it, you two.”

Keith grins and redirects his eyes back to Lance, “Sit Lance, you’re making me awkward.”

“You don’t need my help for that.”

“Shove it up your ass, smartfuck.”

Lance smirks, throwing himself on the couch, “Don’t need to ask twice, sweetheart.” He winks and sends finger guns Keith’s way.

“God, what a fucking loser.”

“Whatever, you still owe me a peak of your tattoo.”

“Do I now?”

“ASSHOLE, THERE’S PANCAKES!” Matt hollers from the kitchen.

Keith and Lance grin at each other as Pidge comes running like crazy through the open door.

“Where’s he?” She looks at them with crazy eyes.

“Kitchen,” Lance points and she’s running.

A moment later they can hear Matt’s voice.

“Holy shit Pidge, the fuck, calm down, you’re gonna- Ah shit.”

Lance hears choking sounds coming from the kitchen and he snickers.

“We’re a bunch of weirdos,” Keith shakes his head.

Lance hums, “You gonna show me your tattoo or I’ll have to wait till I get you naked?”

“Wow, you’re so romantic, did anyone ever tell you that?”

“Quit stalling, sassmaster.”

Keith rolls his eyes but pulls his shirt up to reveal his tattoo anyway, and Lance… Lance’s having a fucking heart attack. Cardiac arrest. A stroke. He’s fucking dying. His heart is suffocating.

“Oh my god, is that-” He comes closer, sitting on his knees, “Keith, KEITH! Oh my god, what the fuck.”

Keith shrugs, “I told you I loved it.”

Lance doesn’t know how to react, it’s his fucking alien head. He did that, he drew that, now it’s fucking permanent, it’s branded on Keith. A part of Lance is stamped on Keith’s fucking skin and it’s permanent. His alien head is there, sitting proudly on Keith’s hipbone. This is… this is… he has no words. He’s gonna fucking cry, swear. He's gonna fucking faint. Jesus Christ Almighty.

He slides down to the floor and scooches closer to Keith’s legs, almost shoving his face into Keith’s crotch to take a better look.

It’s fucking beautiful, it’s so beautiful he’s getting kinda hard, honestly. What the fuck.

“You’re doing amazing, sweetie,” he hears Pidge say in a mocking tone, but he's too fucking distracted looking at the fine piece of art that is Keith’s tattooed hipbone to realize the true meaning behind those words. Then it clicks, and it clicks hard, so hard it has him whipping his head around so fast he hears a pop.

Pidges grin is wicked when he fixed his glare on her, she waves at him with her phone. He’s gonna dead ass strangle her. “Pidge,” he warns.

Her smile only widens, turns even more wicked. She looks fucking manic.

“I SWEAR TO GOD, IF YOU POST THAT, YOU’RE DEAD! SO DEAD I'LL TURN YOU INTO CHICKEN WINGS, I FUCKING SWEAR, KATHERINE ELIZA HOLT.”

She bites her bottom lip to stifle her laughter, but the phone is still trained on him.

“DO NOT FUCKING TEST ME, GIRL.”

Keith snorts and Lance socks him dead ass on the chest, “You shut it, mullet.” 

Keith raises his eyebrows and hits Lance upside the head. 

“Keith!” 

“What!” Keith raises his arms innocently, “You started it.” 

“It’s true,” Pidge points out, her voice wavering with suppressed laughter, “I caught it on video. You can’t run away from digital evidence, pal. The People vs. Lance Martínez.” 

“I’ve been set up, the fucking betrayal!” 

Keith hits him again, with a pillow this time, “Shut up, you fucking loser.” 

Like a flip is switched the three of them bust out laughing. 

Lance still gotta shit, though.

He’ll do it later, guess, his stomach doesn’t hurt that much, anyway.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _eggslut: matt_  
>  _stucky lovechild: shiro_  
>  _wine mom: allura_  
>  yo guys, i know it's been a while but my life was hell these past months so i couldnt do much of anything, i was literal trash emotionally, i've been through so much shit it's not even funny. i'm okay now, though.  
> i'm so sorry for being mia, but i'm back now heya.  
> idk what tf this is tho lmao but at least it's something amirite  
> ENJOY!

Keith’s gonna fuck him.

He’s gonna be fucked by Keith.

Keith’s dick will be up his ass.

Keith will _penetrate_ him.

Okay, you get the picture, right? You see what he means, though? You see his problem? No? Well, let me break it down for you.

Keith Fucking Kogane™ will fuck him and Lance? Lance is a weak ass man, alright, he isn’t sure he’ll even _survive_ after going through something like this. He’s not prepared, it’s too much. Too fucking much. What if… what if he has a stroke? What if he _dies_? What if the world ends? What if Jesus comes back? Cause he’s sure as fuck he’ll be seeing God in the afterlife once they’re done with their tango. He can’t do this, he’s gonna die. Someone help.

“I’m gonna die,” he whines, slumped back on his spot on the couch.

Hunk pats him on the shoulder as he gets up to get Lance another beer, “You’ll be fine.” He cracks it open with his _teeth,_ what a man, and offers the bottle to Lance.

Lance accepts it with a pout, “You don’t know that,” he takes a forlorn sip.

“You’re such a dweeb,” Pidge tells him, casually sucking cheetos dust off her thumb.

**about 20 hours earlier, give or take**

“Use cock instead of dick,” Keith tells him and holds Lance’s laptop up so Lance can take it back. Lance looks at the screen, stares at it. He looks back at Keith and frowns. He reaches for the bag of m&m’s between them on the couch, takes a handful.

“What’s wrong with dick?” Lance asks with his mouth full, “I love dick.”

Keith crosses his arms and cocks one eyebrow, “Dick doesn’t sound sexy, though.”

Lance pfts him, “I think dick sounds the sexiest.”

“It’s not about you, though, it’s about pleasing the public.”

Lance sticks his tongue out, “Since when do you care about the public.”

“Isn’t erotica all about the public?” Keith deadpans.

“I don’t know dude, this isn’t really my area of expertise.”

“I can _see_ that.”

Lance makes an affronted noise and throws green m&m’s at Keith, hitting his chest, “I resent that, it’s rude, it’s uncalled-for. I’m offended.”

Keith chuckles, slouching back on the couch, glasses sliding down as he picks a stray chocolate and pops it in his mouth with an amused shrug.

Lance picks up his phone from the coffee table and waves it at Keith, “Let’s settle this, I bet 5 bucks on dick.”

“What about… _when_ you lose, you’ll ride me tomorrow night.”

That isn’t much of a loss but okay, Lance can do with that. Gladly.

But first-

“And _when_ I win?”

“Won’t happen, but I’ll…” Keith purses his lips in thought, reaches for his own phone, “I’ll cut my hair?”

“Bitch, what.”

Keith’s lips twitch up as he shrugs, “Just cause I know I’m gonna win.”

Lance narrows his eyes, “We’ll see about that.”

“I suppose we will.”

(Just to reiterate. Riding Keith isn’t much of a loss. This, right here, is pretty much a win-win situation, honestly. If he wins, no more fugly mullets, if he loses, he’ll get dick. A nice bet.

Keith doesn’t need to know that, though.

Keith does.)

 **space boi lance:** guys real quick  
**space boi lance:** cock or dick  
**kogayne:** cock  
**stud muffin:** dick  
**stud muffin:** wait wait wait whats the context  
**space boi lance:** U DONT FUCKING COUNT MULLET GET OUTTA HERE  
**kogayne:** fight me  
**space boi lance:** and its sex hunkules  
**eggslut:** passion rod  
**eggslut:** lmao im kidding  
**pidgeotto:** pussy  
**stucky lovechild:** kATIE  
**pidgeotto:** shut up shiro im 21 yo stop treating me like a fuken child I KNOW PUSSY I HAVE ONE FOR FUCKS SAKE AND IM NOT EVEN A VIRGIN ANYMORE  
**stud muffin:** wtf is wrong with this family  
**eggslut:** sex penis  
**space boi lance:** guys im dead ass serious  
**eggslut:** so am i  
**pidgeotto:** me too  
**space boi lance:** god so fucking unhelpful wtf DUDES MY ACADEMIC LIFE DEPENDS ON THIS  
**pidgeotto:** lmao ure no fun  
**pidgeotto:** but okay wtv cock cause dick sounds floppy  
**kogayne:** i second that  
**space boi lance:** nobody asked u patrice  
**kogayne:** sucks to suck  
**wine mom:** cock  
**space boi lance:** ALLURA YOURE DOING ME SO  DIRTY RN GIRL  
**space boi lance:** also wtf pidge WHO  
**space boi lance:** y didnt u tell me  
**space boi lance:** WERE SUPPOSED TO BE BESTIES I FEEL BETRAYED  
**pidgeotto:** bitch i didnt claim u  
**space boi lance:** :O  
**wine mom:** not my fault cock sounds sexy  
**space boi lance:** wtf lady you dont even like dick  
**space boi lance:** rude and uncalled for katelyn  
**pidgeotto:** thats not even my real name  
**wine mom:** i dont need to like dick to find a word sexy lance  
**pidgeotto:** ayy lmao  
**space boi lance:** hunk  
**space boi lance:** my main man  
**space boi lance:** my dude  
**space boi lance:** my best bro  
**space boi lance:** homie  
**space boi lance:** back me up here  
**stud muffin:** sorry bro but im with allura on this one  
**space boi lance:** there are no take backsies in my kingdom  
**kogayne:** hmmmmMMM  
**space boi lance:** get dicked  
**kogayne:** hmmmmMmmm no  
**space boi lance:** I WONT HESITATE BITCH  
**space boi lance:** ANYWAY  
**space boi lance:** WHERES SHIRO  
**space boi lance:** SHIROOOOOOO  
**space boi lance:** SHIRO ARE U DEAD  
**space boi lance:** SHIRO WHERE U AT  
**space boi lance:** SHIRO I NEED U  
**space boi lance:** DAAAAAAAAAAD  
**eggslut:** lmao i think katie broke him  
**eggslut:** hes been staring at his phone for 10min im pretty sure hes having an existential crisis cause our sweet and innocent child isnt so innocent anymore lmao  
**stud muffin:** i for one am still shocked  
**kogayne:** sweet and innocent my ass  
**pidgeotto:** excuse me sir but im AN ANGEL  
**space boi lance:** UGHHHHHH  
**space boi lance:** I GIVE UP  
**space boi lance:** UNHELPFUL FUCKS 

Keith raises his eyebrows and smirks. Lance wants to punch him in his damn COCKY face. 

Lance rolls his eyes so hard it stings, “Whatever.” 

 **present time**  

Lance’s fucked.

* * *

“So Lance,” Allura starts, nails tapping the sleeve of her mug, “how’s the project going?” 

Lance groans, running his hand through his hair, “It’s fucking killing me.” 

The corner of her mouth quirks up, “Coran’s assignments will do that to you.” 

“He gave me erotica, Allura, _erotica_.” 

Allura snorts, “So you’ve told me.” 

“I get that he’s trying to get me out of my comfort zone, but erotica? Is that even allowed?” 

“I don’t see why that’s so bad, especially when you’re getting laid.” 

Lance chokes on his sip of latte. 

“Thanks for the reminder,” he wheezes, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth. He looks down at his shirt and grimaces. Great, now he looks like a fucking child. 

Allura rolls her eyes, offering him a napkin, “You’ll be fine.” 

“Why do people keep saying that? Don’t you guys see I’m about to die?” 

“You’re overreacting.” 

“Am not!” 

“It’s just _Keith_ , Lance.” 

“That’s my point exactly!” He crumples up his napkin and pitches it across the table at her.

* * *

“Yassss daddy, fill me up with your fat _cock_ , he said,” Lance reads as he types, clearly teasing. 

Before you ask, I don’t know why he’s like that either. 

“Daddy kink? Are you serious?” Keith reaches over to flick him in the forehead, “what a fucking dweeb.” 

“What? It’s sexy,” Lance deadpans, rubbing a finger over his forehead. 

“It’s fucking gross, is what it is, and it also reminds me of Matt,” Keith shudders. 

Lance quirks up an eyebrow, “Okay…” 

He doesn’t elaborate. 

Lance huffs, “Don’t leave me hanging, dude.” 

Keith’s nose scrunches up, “I, uh, heard him calling Shiro _daddy_ through the walls once when I went to get some water.” 

Lance burst out laughing, “Shiro’s face must’ve been priceless.” 

“I’m pretty sure he kicked Matt off the bed.” 

“Matt’s my hero.” 

“Dude. No. It scarred me, I can still hear him in my dreams. We should get thicker walls, that’s not something I want to hear about my fucking brother ever again.” 

The mention of thicker walls sobers Lance up fast.

“Wait, if our walls are thin… That means… oh my god, Keith!” Lance grabs Keith’s shoulders, (“The fuck!”) and shakes him side to side, “What if-” another shake, “oh my god, this is-” 

“ _What_?” Keith slaps his hands away. 

“Did it ever occur to you that they might’ve overheard us? Because I’m imagining that right now, and I’m getting kinda freaked cause that’s embarrassing as fuck.” Lance’s eyes go wide, “Oh my god, _Pidge_. Poor girl, the fuck.” 

Lance might have no shame but he’s not that deep down the hole. 

“Is this just dawning on you?” 

“You mean… you _knew_?” 

“Of course I did, didn’t I just tell you I heard Matt through the walls, you knob?” 

“And you still…” 

“I still what?” 

“You’re loud as fuck, did you know that?” 

Keith barks out a laugh, then shrugs like that’s nothing, “Serves them right and Pidge doesn’t give a fuck, you know that.” 

Keith, on the other hand. 

“Boy, you’re shameless,” Lance tells him, eyebrows raised in awe, he’s astonished, “I know shameless, I, for one, am shameless but you, my dude, you take the fucking cake, I swear. You’re in deep. There’s no ounce of shame in your body, you’d make my mama cry, and she has me as a son, do you know how much it takes for her to cry of shame? It’s a lot.” 

Keith smirks, “It’s so nice seeing you be so self-aware, it makes my cold, dead heart go all tingly. Also, I’ve never heard you complaining about my volume in bed before and your room is right next to mine.” 

“It’s because you’ve never… wait, that means… was I that good? I was, wasn’t I.” He jumps off the couch, pumping the air triumphantly, “Oh ho, I’m a beast in bed. I’m awesome, admit it.” 

Keith chucks a pillow at him, “Shut your fuck, weirdo.” 

“Admit it.” 

“Get outta here.” 

“Go on, say ‘oh my god Lance, you’re awesome in bed, I’ve never had it this good, I’m addicted’.” 

“Hell no, I’m not saying that.” 

Lance gets closer to him, “C’mon, say it.”

“I choose death.”

Lance’s full on invading Keith’s personal space, half climbing on his lap, they’re nose to nose, “Say it.”

Keith wraps his arms around Lance’s hips and brings him closer, putting him properly on his lap. “You can’t make me,” Keith challenges him, breath puffing against Lance’s mouth. Lance can feel the curve of his smirk on his lips.

Holy sexual tension, Batman.

Lance licks his lips.

Suddenly, there’s a loud bang.

“Get dressed bitches, we’re going grocery shopping.”

Lance shrieks and falls to the ground.

“Ow. Pidge, _what the fuck_.” He sits up and stares at her, offended. He feels attacked, this is rude as fuck.

Pidge smirks, raising an eyebrow, “Did I interrupt something?”

Lance chucks a pillow in her direction, “You fucking gremlin.”

 

* * *

 “Lance,” Keith says flatly, “you lost the bet.”

Lance startles and almost runs into the lady picking tomatoes with the shopping cart.

“Don’t remind me,” He makes a face, “be careful with my ass, alright, it’s been a while.”

The tomato lady shoots them a scandalized look.

“You’re paying for the groceries alone,” he says as he dumps, like, six boxes of condoms in the cart.

“Why?”

“Because you lost the bet.”

“Why so many condoms.”

“Because you’re paying.”

“Fuck this.”

Keith smirks, “Fuck _you_.”

 

\--------

 

Lance can’t think about anything other than Keith’s dick. Keith’s dick in him. Keith’s dick near him. Keith’s dick in his face. Keith’s dick in general.

It’s starting to become a problem.

(“It looks like you’re thinking about something really hard.”

Lance snorts, “Sounds about right.”)

He’s legitimately afraid he might be losing it. He can’t write anything worth reading (that isn’t sex-related, that is), can’t concentrate in class for shit, can’t even brush his teeth right without picturing Keith’s dick in his mouth, this is so fucking annoying.

He needs to take a shot of something really strong every time he’s working on something other than his project, only coffee doesn’t cut it for him anymore.

Concentrate, he tells himself, takes a shot. Sometimes even that doesn’t work, so he takes two, even three. He’s a mess.

On the bright side, his project is all about sex, so he gets to unload all the filth he’s got stashed in his brain and wax poetic about Keith’s dick shamelessly, guilt free.

His project might turn out just fine because of this, maybe it’s not so bad after all. Maybe it’s a blessing.

Who is he kidding? This sucks.

Someone save him.

* * *

Okay, he’s doing this. He’s doing it. He is. He’s going to give Keith the ride of his life, his thighs are going to burn like hell, that’s how hard he’ll ride that fucking dick. Mark his words, Lance will wreck the shit out of Keith.

At least, he hopes so.

To be honest, he’s a nervous wreck right now.

 **lance:** lamdjajdksksskdksjdndnddjssjakh  
**lance:** aaaaaaaAAAAAAA  
**lance:** aa aa a a a a a  a a a a aa a a a a AA A A A A A A A A A A  
**hunk:** dude chill  
**lance:** YOU chill im chill af im so fucking chill its ficking snowing  
**hunk:** lance  
**lance:** WHAT  
**hunk:** chill  
**lance:** IM CHILL FUCK YOU  
**hunk:** woah there buddy now ure lashing out  
**hunk:** want me to make u some donuts  
**hunk:** some tea  
**lance:** OKAY FuCK IM SORRY IM JUST  
**lance:** SO FICKING NERVOUS  
**hunk:** i can see that  
**lance:** KANDMADJSJSJSJSJ  
**lance:** i need to vent bring me sum dem donuts  
**hunk:** hang in there my dude

(“Lance?”

“Yeah?”

“Why do we have so many donuts?”

“I’m venting, fuck you.”)

* * *

Lance knows he’s staring.

“ _What_.” Keith snaps.

“Nothing,” he looks down, taking a sip of his coffee.

The thing is, he can’t help it.

He dreamt about Keith fucking him, alright? He woke up sweating like crazy and stared at the ceiling for about thirty miserable minutes, trying to get his shit together. He fucking failed and had to take care of it in the shower, so sue him.

He stares at Keith’s hands as he spreads butter on his toast, stares at his mouth as he takes a bite and chews, he just can’t help it, alright. Keith is just… he’s _Keith_ and that’s too much for Lance to handle. His eyes are going unfocused. He’s losing it.

“Quit staring, it’s weird.”

Lance’s eyes flicker back to Keith’s, “You’re weird.”

“And you’re staring.” Keith sends a flat look his way, “Is there something on your mind?”

He can lie. It’s nothing. There’s nothing going on in his head, it’s a blissful blank. “Am I the only one nervous about tonight?”

Well shit, then, go ahead and be honest, Lance. See if I care.

Keith freezes mid-bite, probably surprised (yeah Keith, same), sets his toast down, lips twitching up in clear amusement, “You admitting that you’re nervous? _You_? Lance Martínez?”

Lance deposits his mug in the sink, “God, you’re an ass, I’m leaving. I left, I’m go-”

He turns to walk away, but is pulled back by a hand on his wrist. Lance looks down at Keith’s then back at his face, raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me, sir?”

“Don’t need to be nervous, Lance,” Keith says, face serious, “I’ll take care of you.” his face cracks a bit and it gets Lance to yank his arm back and shove Keith, laugh bubbling out of him, “Get dicked.”

“After you,” he calls back, Lance flips him off.

* * *

Prepping is a pain in the ass.

“Fucking hell,” Lance hisses, taking his fingers off his ass.

“Here, let me help,” Keith taps his wrist twice, then hooks his hands behind Lance’s knees to get him on his lap. Lance yelps, grabbing Keith’s shoulders to avoid falling on his ass, and almost drops the bottle of lube.

(“Keith! The fuck! A little warning would be nice.”)

Oh.

Okay, then.

Help, sure.

Be my guest.

Go ahead, relieve me from this burden.

Keith takes the bottle from his hand, flips the lid open and squirts some of the liquid on his hand.

Lance shivers when Keith’s wet fingers graze down his back, leaving a trail of lube across his spine to his ass, sliding a finger inside, Lance bucks forward on Keith’s chest, the air leaving his lungs in a hiss. Keith slips another finger in, starts scissoring them inside. Lance rocks his hips down experimentally, testing the stretch with a hum.

Keith starts thrusting his fingers in and out, startling a moan out of Lance. When Lance starts grinding down on his fingers, Keith adds the third and the stretch is almost too much.

“Fuck,” Lance gasps, forehead hitting Keith’s shoulder, a shiver runs down his spine, his dick twitches.

Okay, maybe it doesn’t suck so much when someone is doing it for you.

“Hey,” Keith’s voice is hoarse as he speaks, he runs a hand up Lance’s thigh, has Lance’s spine arching when his nails bite the skin.

Lance’s a mess when Keith’s mouth closes on the lobe of his ear, rolls it between his teeth to get his attention.

Lance meets his eyes, teeth digging in his bottom lip and doesn’t say anything, can’t say anything cause he can’t really trust his fucking voice at the moment. He leans forward instead, tips Keith’s head back and latches his mouth onto his neck, Keith hisses as Lance bites down hard and sucks bruises on it. Runs his tongue over his throat, feels the bob of Keith’s adam’s apple against his lips and smirks.

Lance tugs at Keith’s shirt with the impatience of a horny teenager, urging him to take it off. Keith eases his fingers off Lance to raise his arms and Lance loses no time, pushing the shirt up and getting rid of it. His mouth goes straight back to biting Keith’s neck.

Keith’s fingers dig in the swell of Lance’s ass, bruising, getting Lance to whine against his throat as he thrusts his fingers back in. He works Lance open hard enough to make him tremble, digging his fingers deep. Lance grinds down on Keith’s lap, the friction against his dick so good it has him whimpering.

It stings when Keith sinks his fingers into the flesh of Lance’s ass.

Lance can’t do coherent to save his life.

Thinking straight? Don’t know her.

Lance moans hot and broken against Keith’s throat when Keith nails his prostate. He fists his hands on Keith’s hair, tilts his head back and slams their mouths together. Keith groans and licks his way into Lance’s mouth, fingers sliding out of Lance to clutch Lance’s hip hard. He wraps an arm around Lance’s waist and flips them over.

“Thought I was gonna ride you,” Lance breathes out.

“Changed my mind,” Keith shrugs as he hitches one of Lance’s legs over his shoulder.

“You- you can’t just do that!” Lance snaps, nevermind his compromising position.

“I can do whatever I want,” He mouths at Lance’s calf, “I won.”

Lance opens his mouth.

Keith runs his fingers between Lance’s cheeks, teases at his hole, “You don’t really mind, do you?”

Lance’s breath hitches in his throat.

Keith smirks, “That’s what I thought.”

Lance clears his throat, feigning composure, “Fiiiine, whatever.”

* * *

Keith snaps his hips forward, Lance tosses his head back and moans into his arm, “Don’t stop.”

Keith gasps out, pulling back almost all the way and slamming hard back in. Lance whines in response, voice stuttering with every thrust. Keith splays his hands over Lance’s hips and leans down, running his lips along the line of Lance’s neck, he bites down, Lance’s back arches as he gasps.

Keith untucks Lance’s leg from his shoulder, pulls out and sits back on his heels.

Lance props himself on his elbows to stare at him, an eyebrow hitched. “What,” he breathes out, “are you doing?”

“Come here,” Keith pats his lap.

Lance stands up on his knees and can instantly feel his pre-come sliding down his stomach as he drags himself over to Keith. He stops to look down and grimace at the mess. “Okay, this is gross.”

“Are you serious right now.”

Lance looks up at Keith, “What? It’s true.”

Keith huffs, “You’re so fussy.”

Oh ho.

Lance raises his eyebrows, “Oh yeah?” He runs his fingers over the pre-come and approaches Keith. He swipes his fingers off on Keith's chest. 

“Ew, what the fuck, Lance.”

“You’re so fussy,” Lance sticks out his tongue.

“It’s on.” Keith tackles Lance, sitting on his thighs and pinning him down. He runs a hand over Lance’s stomach.

“Keith, no.” Lance squirms under his weight.

“You asked for this,” he grins.

“No, no, _no_ -” Keith smears pre-come over Lance’s cheek and his mouth. Lance spits out when Keith’s finger slips in his mouth, “HOLY SHIT, THIS IS SO GROSS.” He pushes Keith off him and leaps from the bed towards the bathroom.

“You probably just ruined my fucking skin, you fucking crab.”

Keith cackles from the bed.

How dare he.

“Keith, you are cancelled.” Lance screams as he washes his face aggressively.

“Here says,” Keith says in between  chuckles, “come’s good for your skin.”

Lance’s aggressive washing halts. He stares at his reflection in sheer incredulity, the faucet still running, “Did you seriously just google that?” He shuts off the water, grabs the towel and walks back to the room to see it for himself, patting his face dry.

Keith grins, phone in hand, “What? You were worried about your skin.”

Lance pitches the towel at him, “You’re so full of shit.”

“And you’re still hard, which is surprising.”

Lance looks down.

Huh, he’s right. What the fuck, he’d completely forgotten about that.

“How is this possible.”

“You’re weird, that’s how.”

“Shut your fuck, mullet dude.”

Keith folds his arms behind his head, “Wanna ride me?”

Lance chokes on a laugh, “Are you a fuckboy or something.”

“You told me to shut my fuck, that’ll do the trick.”

“The mood was ruined, though.”

“That’s an easy fix, c’mere.”

“You sure are talkative today, fuckboy.”

“Oh, shut up and come here, dumbass.”

Lance rolls his eyes and climbs on the bed, “Yes, boss.”

Keith spreads his legs so Lance can fit between them, Lance looks down at Keith’s dick. “You’re soft,” he points out.

“Thanks, genius.”

Lance cocks his head to the side and smiles coyly, “Want me to take care of it?”

Keith snickers, “What is this, porn?”

Lance punches him in the shoulder, “Want me to suck you off, assface?”

“Talk dirty to me,” Keith deadpans.

Lance grins, “Fuck off.”

* * *

**space boi lance:** so  
**space boi lance:** i didnt die  
**stud muffin:** what did i  
**pidgeotto:** we  
**stud muffin:** what did WE  
**pidgeotto:** tELL U  
**pidgeotto:** u fuckin dweeb  
**space boi lance:** exCUSE ME  
**space boi lance:** my fear was valid okay  
**pidgeotto:** fuck u gremlin  
**pidgeotto:** shut ur fuck  
**stud muffin:** we love u bro  
**pidgeotto:** i dont  
**space boi lance:** :O  
**pidgeotto:** ayyy lmao  
**space boi lance:** cancelled  
**pidgeotto:** <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's 12pm and i haven't slept at all my hands are shaking lmao GONNA SLEEP NOW LOVE YOU
> 
> before i go A Question:  
> dick or cock  
> LmAo


End file.
